#xavier the arms dealer

[leather-blr]

i got back into terraria and came back to my long abandoned interpretations of the npcs from my long abandoned terraria comic, and they’re super growing on me again

[k2ssland]

connie springer found himself crushing on one of his pretty little college girl clients . . . it started when you discovered him through a mutual on campus who deemed he produced the best quality weed in the area and in addition, he was undeniably sexy. curiosity swarmed your mind to see if the weed he was really all that.

even though you rarely indulged in smoking—the only times being for anxiety relief, you got his number and worked up the courage to text. agreeing on a time for his delivery, you sat on your porch, heart pounding through your chest while anticipating his arrival. and he pulled up a little after twelve-thirty am blasting xavier wulf, disturbing all your poor sleeping neighbors. nervously approaching his coupe as he rolled his five percent tinted window down simultaneously lowering the music to a normal level.

"yo, what you doin' buyin' from me, lil' college girl?" was the first thing the brunette-headed beauty said to you. connie's hazel eyes shamelessly trace your plush brown skin body from your fresh goddess braids to the white painted toes in your christian dior sandals.

immediately, his masculine musk mixed with marijuana swarmed your nose and overstimulated your senses making you dizzy. connie leaned back comfortably in his seat and no seat belt in sight, he now tucked his hands into his grey nike sweats, revealing the inseam of his red psds and a glimpse of his perfectly sculpted abdomen. tattoo sleeves ran up both of his muscular arms all the way to his chest.

"the others at yo school usually want rocks, but it's only green ova here." he spoke in a deep tone with a slightly foreign accent, licking his plump cotton candy lips after speaking and slightly showing the blinged-out grills secured to his teeth.

"boy, what the hell? i'm not here for cocaine, that's not what my people do." distraught and snapped out of your daydream by his reply, you painted an almost disgusted look on your face and his laughter erupted throughout the car.

between his laughter, he subtly apologized and continued on with the deal. you apprehensively played it off as you had a big test the following day and simply needed something to calm your nerves, knowing damn well you just wanted to see the infamous sexy dealer in your college town up close.

"oh, word? that's wassup mami. te deseo buena suerte."

he slid an extra ounce in your bag and shrugged it off as a miscount, but the real reason simply being that he was enticed by your beauty. a few days later, before you even finished what you already had, you called him up for another eighth just so you could see his gorgeous face again.

after delivering to you numerous times, he finally asked you out on his version of a date, which was matching in front of a breathtaking view, talking about aliens n conspiracy theories, and after, treating you to whatever munchies craving you possessed.

eventually, connie cautiously opened you up to his world, sometimes allowing you to accompany him on his late-night deliveries whenever you had insomnia. it was definitely different from what you'd known, you wondered to yourself how you, the girl who completely devoted herself to her school, producing top-of-the-line grades, came from a supportive and loving family, ended up skipping class to ride passenger princess in a sexy drug dealer's bmw who knew nothing but the streets.

you knew it was bad and so did he, you two had no business being together, but it was just something about you—something about him.

from you being so oblivious to his street slang and always following up with, "um connie . . . what does that mean?" and vice versa, the way you articulated words only captivated him more, asking you to educate him on their meanings and slowly applying them to his lingo. he admired how you spoke properly regardless of your black friends accusing you of being white-washed because of your pwi.

eventually, he taught you how to weigh his loads, putting your own touch on them by packaging them into pink plastic baggies with their name, amount, and a heart around it.

"mami, they gon' think i went all soft and shit now," is what he told you every time regardless of him finding it adorable.

he thought your innocence and intelligence were alluring and for your sake, he knew he should've kept it strictly professional business, but he wanted to ruin you.

his aspiration only grew larger after one night, participating in a mini competition amongst yourselves to see who would tap out first while smoking as many blunts as possible.

your deep brown eyes were low n red after two, ready to quit due to the feeling of immense drowsiness. feeling as if you were on another planet, you brazenly confessed a few secrets of yours before falling asleep in his arms—one being that you had never had sex before. the thought of connie popping your sweet cherry made him brick up instantly. he would’ve took you right then and there in the backseat of his car, but he wanted you to be completely conscious for it.

teaching you his ways was only the beginning, not only did he want to corrupt your mind, he desired to take over your entire body like a vicious plague.

you sheepishly admitted that being in his scene terrified you but he assured you, "i promise nothin' will happen to you as long as you wit me, mamacita."

he later conceded to you that he was always strapped with his glock-19 and in a way, that made him even sexier. he pulled the weapon out of his baggy sweats and laid it on his lap for you to comprehend. you blurted out asking if he had ever used it on someone.

"ignorance is bliss, ain’t that right, bae?” giving you a small smile alongside a chuckle, continuing on with his delivery route as if nothing happened.

he dropped you home later that night and it was spent under your baby pink silk sheets, one hand tightly resting on your breast, the other rubbing over your aching clit. soft mewls of his name escaped your lips while fantasizing about him holding his loaded gun to your head, finger just shy of the trigger as he fucked you dumb. you messily came undone all over yourself and from that day on, your worries about safety never resumed.

the next thing you knew, connie's plan had you exactly where he wanted you to be. his big body hovering over your adorably small one in comparison and looking down upon you hungrily with low bloodshot eyes, making you indecisive of if the sight was sexy or terrifying, or both.

legs spread onto the dip of his buff shoulders, gold anklet dangling in his face and his precum-soaked tip aimed at your entrance. it was everything you had fantasized about; thick, circumcised, and pretty. veins protruding from the base to his baby pink tip, the same color as your thong he pulled aside.

"wait! wait—connie, before you continue, i need to tell you something.” the fear was evident in your eyes, shakily placing your small chubby hand on his toned lower stomach to avoid him proceeding further.

"oh, that you're a virgin?"

"wait, wait what?" eyes widening, your brows lowering with confusion.

"you do lots of talkin' when you're high, but even without you tellin' it was obvious." his copper eyes briefly shifted towards the chastity ring that never left your finger.

"fuck you, connie."

"oh yea? fuck me, baby? nah, fuck you."

audibly gasping at the sudden aggressive shift into your slit and taking in all of his inches. a smug grin painting his face once he watches the pretty virgin trying to adjust to his length, the stretch embarrassingly being nearly unbearable for you.

"t'hurts," your brown irises rolling to the depths of your skull and he needily bucked his hips against you, balls deep inside of your pussy, slapping against the fat of your ass with no remorse.

“c–connie it’s t’much . . . i can’t.” while gripping onto the sheets as if your life depended on it, light tears swell your sweet doe eyes and your eyelashes meeting with your flushed cheeks from tightly clenching your eyes shut. your pussy crying for him as well, coating his cock with sticky cream ring.

"awn you can't take it, baby? i thought it was fuck me though, right?" he purred in a condescending tone, his russet eyes narrowing before increasing his pace, watching the way your pussy swallowed his dick whole.

"m'sorry . . . connie, m'so so sorry, please."

"m'so sorry," connie embarrassingly mocks your tone creating nearly the same pitch as your shaky voice. his veiny hand wrapped around your neck restricting your breath to a minimum and making you dizzy while soft mewls slithered out of your lips, pain mixing with a foreign feeling of pleasure.

"actin' so innocent all the damn time n yet here you are, pretty pussy creamin' all over my dick." his words spilling from his lips like an addictive poison to your brain.

"ease up f'me princesa, with you clenchin' like that m'not gonna last long." connie's voice coos in your ear as he positions your legs all the way over his shoulders to allow him to plant harsh kisses on your bruised cervix to where you couldn't think straight. gripping your plush thick body in the sweaty palms of his hand and squirming underneath his weight. the room filled with lewd sloppy squelching noises from your pussy suctioned onto the length of his shaft.

your short french tip nails dug into his sweat-glistened skin leaving crescent moons behind and you weren't even fighting back anymore, you embraced it. nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your hands around his neck as he thrusts inside of your tummy.

"oo my gosh, connie. m'gonna cum." your arch faltering, yearning for the sweet release that doing it yourself could never fulfill. his hips angled directly at your sweet spot sending warm n fuzzy shocks through your body.

his dick twitched inside of you and you knew he was close as well based off of his sloppier thrusts. so pussy drunk from your sopping cunt he didn't even hear you talking, he just continued with his pace.

your core tightened and the utmost sensational orgasm ripped out of you. it only took a few more weak strokes to lead to his thick sticky ribbons of goo shooting inside of you and painting your walls completely white.

"connie . . . do drug dealers have hookups to plan b's too?"

© 𝐊𝟐𝐒𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 ─ all rights reserved. do not translate. plagiarize, or repost any of my works to alternative sites, tumblr included.

[melswifeasf]

Find my way back to you pt 2

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Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!OC

Summary: Sam and Estelle met eight years ago after Sam stupidly takes harder drugs than she can handle.

Warning: Drug use and cursing

notes: this was a bit more boring than i expected but this is how they met! pls lmk what you guys would like to see more of:)

word count: 3034

“yo, come on” Elias called for his sister as she approached him slowly. the muscular boy was sitting on the hood of ‘69 Mustang in the parking lot of the school as he smoked a cigarette. he was sitting with his two friends, Alex and Xavier among them sat their girlfriends who were all chatting with one another.

the three boys each were tall with dark hair and tattoos littered around their body. typical cliche gang bangers yet all of their girlfriends were either on the cheer time or live in the rich side of town. probably the most cliche part of it all was the fact that they even surrounded themselves with drug dealers like them.

Estelle rolled her eyes, “why the fuck do you even make me carry it?” she said annoyed as she took off her black backpack and threw it on the ground in front of her brother.

Elias and Alex were the only ones with cars. Alex had an up to date Yellow Mustang that he loved to show off at any moment and time. they were all seniors although they were barely even in class which confused Estelle on how they planned to graduate.

“cause the cops are up my ass lately. they ain’t ever gonna check you” he said with a chuckle. Estelle rolled her eyes again as she moved his brother to the side so she could sit beside him, the blonde on his left sending glares toward her, only fueling her annoyance.

she never liked Anna, she was head of the cheer team and always made her existence fucking miserable the moment she came out her freshman year, now a year later she bit her tongue but that mostly had to do with the fact that Elias would kill anyone who made any comments toward his sister. Estelle always preferred Elias ex girlfriend, Natalia, but they had broken up a year ago when he first got arrested for jumping two guys who wouldn’t pay him the money they owed him.

she missed her. Natalia had been her only friend, everyone else was too afraid to even talk to her, the fear of her brother fucking them up or being around someone as dangerous as him made her a people repellent.

she only ever talked to her girlfriend Valerie but they were off and on every other week so the feeling of being alone all the time never really went away.

“whatever” Estelle scoffed, “hurry up. i have to get to class” she said crossing her arms and tapping her pointer finger against her hand rapidly. she was nothing like her brother, unlike him, she wanted, needed to get a good education so she could get the fuck out of Woodsboro. it’s not that she hated the small town but her name had been trashed around for years, for reasons she never cared to talk about.

“chill. i just gotta sell these and you’re free to go” he said holding up a small ziplock bag with three pills inside. she knew what they were instantly causing her eyes to widen.

“since when do you fucking sell Oxy?” she said in a low and rushed tone. her eyes searched the parking lot to make sure there wasnt anyone looking. the only person she saw was a raven haired girl walking toward them.

the girl had on a black jacket with a white crop top underneath, her toned stomach was slightly peaking out of it and her jeans hugged her curves like nothing Estelle had ever seen before.

she swallowed silently as she watched the girl approach them slowly.

“since someone’s willing to pay double it’s worth”he said with a smirk. the dark haired girl was standing in front of them seconds later.

“one-fifty, right?” she asked. she didn’t seem nervous or fidgety meaning this wasn’t her first time buying from him. she must know one-fifty for three fucking pills was ridiculous but then again she must’ve been desperate to buy them.

“yeah” Elias said, his eyes surveyed the area around them in one quick motion before he reached his hand out and grabbed the money at the same time that he placed the small bag in the girls hand.

it was then that Estelle realized she knew who she was. Samantha Carpenter, she was in the same grade as her and they shared two classes together. she never pegged her as a junkie but that seemed to happen a lot ever since Elias made her hold his drugs. since then she was always there for the dealings and she had seen a lot of rich kids as well as shy and nerdy people buy from him which surprised her greatly.

Sam nodded as she looked down at the bag to make sure it was all there before she moved her hand and put it in her jacket pocket. she was about to turn and leave when she turned toward Estelle, her eyes stopping on her as they trailed up and down her body in one full swoop.

Estelle raised a brow at her, confused on why she was still standing around. Sam took one last look at her before turning her body and walking away.

Estelle isn’t sure why her heart began to race when Sam looked at her the way she did or why her hands began to feel clammy or even why she felt her face heat up, either way she didn’t want to know.

“whatever. i’m leaving” Estelle announced as she pushed herself off of the car and walked away.

“have a good day baby sis!” Elias called out causing Estelle to hold her hand up and give him the finger without turning. she heard her brother laugh along with his friends which made her lips curve into a small smile.

two hours before school was over Estelle was in the bathroom fixing up her makeup. she applied her lipgloss carefully before she looked at herself in the mirror to make sure she looked good. once she was done she put the tube inside her makeup bag and zipped it.

her day was pretty basic, she took notes and tried her best to finish her homework so she wouldn’t have to worry about it later and have the time to see her girlfriend.

just as she was about to leave the bathroom the door swung open and a certain raven haired girl threw herself inside, her body colliding with the wall before she laughed.

Estelle pinched her eyebrows together as she quickly rushed toward the girl. she expected to see the look like she was in pain considering how harsh her body hit the wall but instead Sam looked dazed a lazy grin on her lips as she laughed softly.

she was completely out of it.

“fuck” Estelle whispered as she tried to have Sam supper her body on her own. “are you good?” she asked softly hitting the hispanic girl on her arm.

“i’m fucking amazing” she breathed out.

Estelle shook her head, “come on, i’m taking you home” she said as she grabbed Sams arm and swung it over her shoulder. the hispanic girl didn’t seem to mind as she laid her head on Estelle’s shoulder.

the shorter girl tried her best to ignore the nervous feeling she got in her stomach at the action as she tried her best to walk out of the school without being caught by administration. although her brother was ever teachers worst nightmare, they all had a soft spot for Estelle and she did not want that to change by being caught for ‘cutting class’. god, why the fuck would she do drugs during school hours?

the pair reached the exit of the school in enough time that none of the administrators were able to see them. Sam was saying incoherent things and laughing at her own words making Estelle hush her every couple of seconds.

Estelle reached for the back of her pocket and pulled out her car keys. unlike her brother she own a beat up Camry that she had bought with her own money whilst working at the theatre during the summer.

the shorter girl gripped the handle of the passenger side door and opened it, slowly and carefully she helped Sam inside.

“can you put your seatbelt on?” Estelle asked as she was bent down so she was at eye level with the girl.

Sam shook her head, "can you put your seatbelt on?" she shot back.

Estelle huffed angrily, "lean back" she said as she reached across the taller girls body with the seatbelt in hand and clicked it in. once she was securely inside Estelle pulled away and stood. as soon as the door closed Sam leaned her head against it and closed her eyes.

this is not how Estelle was hoping to spend her day and yet here she was, driving a stranger home because she took too many fucking pills. her brother would be hearing about this.

she took a deep, exasperated breath and walked to the drivers side. she opened the door and got inside, immediately putting the key inside the ignition and turning the car on. it wasn't too hot or too cold, the crisp fall air making it so you'd only need a jacket but Sams body temperature was abnormally warm and she did not need to have an incident where she needed to take her to the hospital or something worse.

"i need to know where you live" Estelle said and turned her body to face Sam. the girl didn't budge, her chest rising and falling evenly hinting that she was most definitely sleeping. Estelle cursed silently as she pulled out her phone and went to her brothers messages.

Sis: where does Sam live?

fuckface: who tf is Sam?

Sis: r u serious? the girl u literally sold drugs to two hours ago???

fuckface: ohhhh lmao. idk some rich neighborhood. i think i got the address let me check.

Estelle tapped against the steering wheel impatiently as she waited for her brother to text back. she glanced at Sam periodically to see if she would wake up but she was completely knocked out.

shit.

Estelle reached over the console and placed two fingers on the girls neck to search for a pulse, a breath of relief leaving her lips as she felt it pounding heavily against her fingers.

Estelle had never really dabbled in drugs, at least not hardcore ones. she would sometimes smoke weed with her brother or at parties but that wasn't all that often. she just never saw the hype. the first time she smoked weed made her have a full on panic attack so every time she smoked now, she made sure it was way less than what she had done that time. she didn't care much to judge others for doing them but if she could choose between having them in her life or not, she'd choose the latter. she hated that her brother sold them, in fact she had tried to convince him to get a real job with her instead but he always said no. selling drugs made him way more money than a regular nine-to-five. plus he didn't have to get off his lazy ass and do much in Estelle's opinion.

the girl drove in silence, the radio turned off as she followed the map on her screen. she arrived at her destination ten minute after leaving the parking lot.

once she pulled up, she looked out the window in slight awe. the house wasn't huge but it was nice, extremely so. it looked like the typical suburban home, the kind you see in movies with two loving parents and their kids. dinner every night and breakfast before school and work, the kind in which they have family game/movie nights and they spend their summer time at some island. all of the things Estelle had never seen.

she sighed softly as she turned toward Sam and shook her awake, it took her a couple of seconds until she finally stirred.

"five more minutes" she groaned softly causing Estelle to roll her eyes, a small almost nonexistent smile ghosting her lips.

"come on. we're at your house" Estelle said. once she said those words Sam jumped and looked at her surrounding.

"how did i get here?" she asked and snapped her head toward Estelle. the young girl could tell she was still high by the way her eyes were shinning and how erratic she looked. she just seemed a bit more sober compared to when she stumbled into the bathroom.

"i drove. probably shouldn't give your address to your dealer. come on, you need to get out" Estelle said as she took the girls seatbelt off.

Sam shook her head and whined softly, "no. i don't want to"

Estelle closed her eyes as she breathed in and out as she tried to calm her anger. she didn't want to be babysitting a fifteen year old girl but it looked like she didn't have much of a choice. the house looked empty, no cars on the road or the driveway signaling no one was home. she could just have Sam go inside on her own but there was still the very prominent fact that Sam was high off of her ass and she couldn't barely walk with Estelle's help, let alone without it.

"fine" Estelle sighed out and took off seatbelt impatiently. she yanked the keys out of the ignition and opened the door in own swift motion. a few steps and she reached the passenger side with Sam peering up at her. she opened the door softly, careful so that Sam wouldn’t be leaning against it and fall out. Estelle pointed at the seatbelt, “can you take it off?”

Sam looked down at where Estelle had pointed and nodded. she did so slowly and once it was off Estelle held her hand out. Sam looked at it curiously and slowly her eyes met hazel ones. Estelle sighed again.

“come on, you can barely walk” with that much of an explanation Sams hand slowly landed on Estelle’s where she shifted all her weight and got out of the car. Estelle helped her as she gripped onto the end of her arm and held her stance firmly.

once the taller girl was standing upright, Estelle closed the car door behind her and locked it with her key before putting it in her back jean pocket. the action reminded her of something she hadn’t thought about beforehand, “do you have keys?” she asked hope laced in her voice. otherwise she had no idea what to do.

Sam nodded as her free hand moved behind her body and into her back pocket, the sound of keys jangling grabbing Estelle’s attention. Sam said nothing as she handed Estelle the keys.

the walk to the door was slow but a lot more steady compared to the walk to the car at school. Sam wasn’t laughing and talking to herself, instead she was extremely focused on getting one foot in front of another.

at the door Estelle tried two different keys before she finally got the right one, she pushed it inside the lock and moved it to the right, the sound of it unlocking reaching her ears. she carefully reach for the doorknob and twisting it, once so she pushed it open.

instantly she was hit with a scent of vanilla and a slight earthy aroma much like what Sam smelled like - not that she was paying attention. obviously.

Estelle helped Sam go inside first before she followed. the two girls were inside and Estelle closed the door behind her, locking it in the process. “where’s your room?” she asked craning her neck as much as she can to look at Sam.

Sam motioned upstairs earning a nod from Estelle. she walked toward it, telling Sam to hold onto the railing with her other hand and take one step at a time. once they were at the top she stopped and waited for Sam to tell her where to next.

soon they were in the girls room and Estelle tried her best to not look around and seem nosy. she wasn’t Sams friend and she did not care about who she was. all she was doing is simply helping a person in need. that’s all.

“come on” Estelle said as she took Sams arm off of her shoulder and practically shoved her on the bed. Sam didn’t protest as she immediately cuddled into her pillow.

“you gonna be okay?” Estelle asked.

Sam moaned, “yeah” she sighed.

“great” Estelle said simply and began to walk toward the door and get the fuck home so she could get ready for cheer practice when a small almost unintelligible groan reached her eardrums.

she groaned silently and looked up. fuck.

she quickly turned around and saw Sam with her eyes closed and a small frown on her lips. why couldn’t she be like her brother and not give a fuck about what happened to her?

with a slight eye roll she approached the bed and began to unlace Sams boots. she did one at a time before she took them both off and placed them on the ground softly, careful to not make noise. once done she grabbed the blanket thrown on the bed and placed it on Sams sleeping body. the girl stirred a little but slowly her breath began to even out once more.

if she was this out of it, it’s likely she wouldn’t be remembering anything about that day let alone how she got home. without another option Estelle walked toward the desk with a closed laptop and books along with notebooks littered around messily. she grabbed the black notebook and ripped a page out before reaching for a pen. she scribbled something down and placed it on the girls nightstand.

once done she walked out of the room without another glance back.

i brought you home cause you’re high as fuck. drink water and don’t you dare take anything else until you’re feeling normal again.

-Estelle

[twiistcd]

THE NEEDLE PIT.

☆ DANIEL MATTHEWS X READER

SUMMARY - reader gets thrown into the needle pit, some form of established friendship with daniel.

basic saw warnings, needles, description of gore(?), not much comfort but it's there (somewhere)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Everytime I inhaled I felt my lungs fill with the gas that diffused throughout the house.

I leaned up against the wall as a watched the taller man, Xavier attempt to break down the door, it opening slightly each time.

"If its stuck, its a trap."

Amanda said knowingly.

"Lady, this whole house is a trap."

it's been a few more minutes, eventually Xavier managed to barge the door open.

I walk in cautiously behind the others, glancing at Laura who reminded sitting to check how she was doing, I watched as Daniel then joined the rest of us.

I turn around, suddenly hearing a familiar sinister voice coming from a tape player, the same voice from the first tape.

Hello, Xavier.

I want to play a game.

The game I want to play

is very similar...

to the one that you've

been playing as a drug dealer.

A game of offering hope

to the desperate for a price.

I think we can agree that

your situation is desperate...

so I offer you hope.

The price you pay...

is that you must crawl

into the same pit of squalor...

your force your customers into.

By entering this room,

a timer has been started.

When the timer expires...

the door in front of you

will be locked forever.

"Guys, guys-"

Daniel interrupts the tape, staring down at something.

"What?"

Xavier snaps

Daniel lifts up the distressed metal bed frame revealing a disgusting pit filled with used needles, making me feel sick just by looking at it.

...before the timer runs out.

Can you unlock it...

and retrieve the antidote inside?

I will give you just one hint

as to where that key is

It will be like finding

a needle in a haystack.

Let the game begin.

The tape finishes.

"Someones going in there, someone is fucking going in there man!"

Xavier paces, the timer decreasing by the second.

I remain still watching the others to see what they do next, I make eye contact with Xavier before he begins charging towards me.

"No! No!"

I shouted, attempting to break free from his grasp. He carried me by my arms holding me tightly, I felt a stinging sensation rush through my body the noise of glass breaking filled my ears.

I got hit with reality. I was in a pit filled with used needles, I sobbed, feeling as if I was being stabbed all over my body.

I can hear the others shouting, seeing slight glances of people turning their backs at to me, I lay there mainly in shock until I manged to make out Xavier shouting at me to dig.

I slowly turned around my arms shook, tears rolling off my face, I can still hear Xavier yelling as I raised my hands beginning the dig through the needles, the pain becoming stronger.

"Someones gotta help her!"

Daniel yelled.

The others we're facing the wall, guiltily looking over the shoulders.

"What the fuck guys!"

He cried, pacing back and forth.

After digging for what felt like hours, I found the key attempting to drag myself through the needles to get to the edge, shakily placing the key on the outside of the pit. The sight of the needles sticking out of my arm makes me feel even more nauseous.

Xavier grabbed the key, running over to the large metal door, fumbling as he tried to open it.

I felt Amanda gently grab my arms in order to pull me out followed my Daniel, once they got me out I was laid down near the needle pit, I felt as Daniel pulled a needle from my arm my body tensed causing him to immediately stop, afraid to hurt me.

Amanda whispered to me but I couldn't hear her over Xavier shouting.

"NO! NO! NO!"

I heard him shouting, slamming the door.

"Fucking bitch!"

Is the last I hear before seeing him storming towards me, shoving Daniel away.

"Alright, that's enough."

Jonas attempted, grabbing Xavier before he could do any damage.

They agrued for a moment before Addison chimed in.

"Stop this bullshit! There's something we're not seeing, he knows us, our names-"

"Jail."

I winced again, feeling another needle being pulled from my body, following by another, I felt Amanda rest her hand on my shoulder for comfort.

I heard Daniel mumble apologises under his breath as he removed the needles .

Laura entered the room, resting on the doorframe before joining the conversation.

"Make it four."

"For what?"

"Doesn't matter."

She remarked.

"Anyone else want to own up?"

"What about you, you got juive written all over you?"

Jonas asked Daniel, as him and Amanda finished removing the needles.

"No- never been."

Daniel responded, Jonas turned to face me attempting to question me but not being sure if I was capable of answering.

"I have."

I hesitated, trembling as I sat up, with help from both Amanda and Daniel.

Jonas begins explaining about what we all may have in common.

"The only thing you people have in common, is holding me back. I'm gone."

Xavier interrupts him, aggressively storming out from the room.

Daniel wrapped his arm around my side in order to help me up, I stumbled trying to get up, my whole body hurting.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

[xaviermattthews]

who: xavier matthews + vanessa gable // @vanessagable

where: x's los angeles aparment, circa april 2020

trigger warnings: drugs, cheating mention, .nsfw mention, alcohol

VAN --

It felt unnatural to keep something from Xavier. She was often more vulnerable with him than what she had ever been with any other person.

Which was part of the problem. And she knew that.

They often skirted talk about her husband, which is why the conversation about his career and what jobs he was booking never came up. She'd lived in the pretend of it for awhile -- that everything could somehow be sustainable even with change. And she had known X well enough and long enough to know that changed was never something he coped well with.

But she was leaving in two days. She couldn't put it off any longer.

For lack of any other offering she could think of, she arrived knocking on his door with a bottle of the most expensive tequlia she could find in hand.

And a rock in her stomach.

X --

A knock on the door and X's head immediately sprang up to look at the back of it from where he sat on the couch neatly cutting lines with his credit card. Had he texted for more white? He probably had and had forgotten after he got distracted by the burst of inspiration he had that was scribbled in almost incomprehensible letters in his notebook.

With his shirt fully unbuttoned where it hung on his body, he put his credit card down and got up and walked around the coffee table to open the door.

It wasn't his dealer, but it was a much better surprise.

"Baby," He greets with the kind of smile he only got when he's gotten more into a bottle of Hennessy than he should have. His arm hooked around her shoulders to usher her into his place and to draw her into his body so he could kiss her forehead and her temple and the side of her face in an onslaught of affection before he releases her so he could wander back inside.

"What you doing here?" X asked as he collapsed back down onto the couch, slumped in how he sat with both his arms held out in a beckon for her to come join him -- across the room was too far for his liking.

VAN --

The utterance of 'baby' makes her stomach twist as much as his smile does -- because she knows that smile. It means he's been using for an hour at least and had a round of shots all to himself.

She should have told him she was coming. She should have asked him to be sober when she got there. She shouldn't have brought tequlia. She should have done all of this two weeks ago.

She's grateful that he can't see her face as he's kissing over it -- she'd never much had a poker face. Especially not with him.

Van's eyes follow him as he makes his way back from the couch, still wearing her denim jacket as she sets the bottle down on the table. It's impossible to look anywhere but the white lines, but she fights the urge she feels to swipe her had across them and scatter them to the wind. She had a terrible feeling that he'd lick the remnants off of her fingers for the taste.

"Um, I need to talk to you," she starts, her fingers laced in front of her as she takes a breath and considers him, not moving from her spot across the room.

"How fucked up are you right now, X?" X --

When she places the bottle down, he instinctively sits forward to pick it up, inspecting the label. Tequila, not his favorite but it was at that moment because it was forty proof and in front of him.

He doesn’t open it, instead he places it back down as he looks across the room at her, trying to discern why she was across the room and not on his lap. Had he pissed her off somehow? Probably.

Everything was a little hazy to him right then.

“I’m not fucked up.” He tells her, even though the fact he couldn’t do another line then because they were having a conversation was starting to make him too aware of his own heartbeat.

“What do you want to talk about?”

VAN --

"I'm not fucked up."

How many times had she heard that one? How many sound checks had he'd stumbled into? How many times she'd picked him up off a green room floor? How many times with his mouth against hers and she tasted something too chemical?

Enough times. Enough to know a lie when she sees it.

She shakes her head slightly to herself. There's no way this goes well or even halfway well. But if she tries to wait for a moment where he's sober she could be waiting years or until the day he dies.

Van bends down to pick up the bottle of tequlia, she pulls out the stopper with a heavy sigh and takes a mouthful and swallows it clean before putting it back down.

"Um. Lee got a job. A big one. Lead in a new series based on some James Patterson shit. For Netflix. He quit the soap."

X --

X’s mood instantly sours at the mention of her husband, the man an ever present figure in the background of his mind whenever he was around Van. Easily ignored, but still there.

“Am I supposed to say congratulations?”

He tended not to say anything about him if he could help it, he was rarely nice on the topic.

VAN --

"No," Van says through a frown, brows furrowed as she looks at him and crosses her arms over her chest.

Even getting him to acknowledge the man she'd been married to for over a decade was treated with the same amount of dread and distate as being sat for a root canal; it seemed the longer she knew X the more petulant he became about someone else having the audacity of knowing her first.

"But it's filming in Toronto. And it's a six month shoot. And I'm gonna go with him."

X --

There was silence in the immediate aftermath of her news, one that stretched on for an eternity though it count by have been more than a few seconds.

Then he laughed.

The sound was mirthless, devoid of any joy as his mind tried to find where he thought she thought the punchline was in her words because that’s what it had to be. A joke.

“You’re not going to fucking Canada, Van.” He tells her, sitting forward again so he could reach for the tequila, this time he was taking the top off and taking a swig of it.

“Coming in here saying stupid shit like that like we ain’t got gigs lined up.”

VAN --

There's absolutely no comfort brought by the sound of his lap, the line between her brow only growing deeper as his tone follows.

She doesn't know if she's annoyed or worried.

Annoyance takes the drivers seat.

"I am going to Canada. In two days," she adds, posture unmoving and tone more defiant than what she'd initially planned.

"The label knows and they're sending in a sub bassist until September."

X --

X’s hand lifts to his face, rubbing his eye as he found himself the sudden victim of a migraine of sorts. He places the bottle down at his feet and then looks to his bandmate, his expression that of simmering rage.

“You’re bailing on us to go follow your husband to Canada for his job?”

He was trying to follow the threads here, but so far the picture they displayed wasn’t making much sense.

VAN --

She narrows her gaze at him.

"I'm not following him. I'm going with him."

Her tone is becoming more firm and less contrite.

"And I am not bailing. I am taking a break, Xavier."

X --

Now she was starting to grate on him.

His attention diverts to the lines he carved out that were still on the table, the rolled up 100 dollar bill he had been using now picked back up and re-rolled so he could use it as an aid while he leaned over and snorted the closest one to him with little residue left behind.

He places the bill down again and straightens up, wiping his nose with his thumb before he’s looking at her again, a little more wild-eyed before.

“If you fuck off to Canada for six months you better not think you’re going to come back here and still be a member of this band.”

VAN --

He couldn't do it. He couldn't have one single real conversation with her without having having to literally put a line in the middle of it.

And she finds the worst part is is that she doesn't stop him. She knows she can't -- she just watches him do it, like watching a car wreck happen from three lanes away.

"It's just a break," she repeats to him, her voice remaining even but grounded. "We've been on tour for the better part of the year. I need a break and I need to spend time with my family…"

X --

That wired feeling he likes that takes over his whole body felt like too much when he was faced with a waking nightmare — losing her.

He could deal with anything but that.

“So we’re not your fucking family now?” X asked, on his feet suddenly, his hand movements erratic as he ranted.

“You want a fucking break while we’re on the verge of our big one. We’re so fucking close to it and you want a sub to step in so you can be a full time wife.”

It makes his skin crawl to think about the two of them together, and it would be all he could think about the entire time she would be gone.

“That’s fucking pathetic, V. You can see that, right?”

VAN --

"That's not what I fucking mean and you know that," she argues when he puts words into her mouth, gaze following his abrupt movements as suddenly he's up from the couch.

As if the band hadn't been what had kept her afloat the last several years. As if it wasn't where she was at her happiest and most proud. As if she hadn't poured just as much of herself into it as he had.

She takes in a long breath through her nose and squares her jaw.

"It's not pathetic to want to be happy with my husband. There's nothing wrong with that. You just have a fuckin vendetta…"

X --

“You tryna be happy with your husband every time you let me make you cum?”

It’s a low blow and he knows it as soon as he says it, but he doesn’t apologize because he never has before and he isn’t about to start now.

She was integral to everything Submergence was, everything he was, and he had never had to truly contend with the idea of her not being there.

His pacing was as sloppy and out of time as he was, only coming to a halt when he was stood directly in front of her. It was then that he takes her face in his hands, his hold gentle as it always was when he touched her.

“Please, baby. Please. Don’t fucking do that. I don’t know how to do this without you. I don’t know how to be me without you. He doesn’t need you, we do. I do.”

VAN --

It's not that what he says isn't fair or unearned -- he's in the right on both fronts on that.

But he's never used their affair against her as a slight, or made her seem horrible about it as she often felt -- not outside of songs, at least. It stings and it shows on her face, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she looks away from him.

Her face is only brought back to him by the guidance of his hands, her jaw still clenched stubbornly to keep her lips for quivering.

It isn't fair for him to call her baby right now.

"You don't need me. You just said I'd be out of the fucking band if I go. So you must think you can get on just fine, huh?"

X --

He leans down as she speaks, his forehead pressing to hers gently as they exchange warring words. X had never cared much about how combative he could be, he was always someone who found some thrill in the battle, but it was hard not to hurt himself in the process when his opponent was Van.

They had always been on the same team.

“You know that’s not true. I know you know that. Stay.”

VAN --

"How am I supposed to know that's not true, you just fucking said it…"

Her voice is hollowed, a far cry from the soul she usually sings in when she's at the mic backing him up.

There's still hurt in her eyes as she looks up at him, their foreheads togethers as her breath shakes.

"Stay. Stay and do what, X?" she questions, her voice low and between them. "Hmm? Stay and watch you do another line?"

X --

His shoulders tense at her final question, his thumb stroking against her jaw as his face lifts from hers and he takes a step back from her, oscillating between anger and hurt at a speed so rapid he couldn’t dissociate the two.

“It’s s fucking line, Van. Don’t make it sound like it’s something it’s not.” There was an unspoken agreement in the band — don’t mention X’s using. He never took it well, no matter what kind of place it was coming from.

“Fucking coming over here acting like you can tell me how I’m supposed to be living when you’re about to throw everything away for the same motherfucker who’s been weighing you down since you were a teenager. Least I can do another line if I want to. You can’t do another fucking life.”

VAN --

"You're doing coke in your apartment alone at 9 pm on a Tuesday, so maybe it's exactly how it sounds," she says, eyes still on his as he pulls himself back from her.

She knows she's struck a nerve in him -- one that she'd previously been protecting. She's made so many excuses over the years for the way he used, she's tried to put herself between him and the highs as if she could be the more alluring and safe option than whatever pills or needles he could get his hands on.

Van realizes with a feeling of sinking that she's probably only further pained him and made everything worse. Having but not having her killing him just as much.

"He doesn't weigh me down," Van argues, even when in her gut she knows that he's right. But it's like him and his vices, and she rationalizes herself around it the way trees in the forest do when there's an abandoned car or bike in their way.

"When you're married you make sacrifies. You give shit up when you love someone," she swallows hard, hurt on the edges of her next words.

"You only love one thing that much, so I don't expect you to understand it."

X --

“Fuck you.” X says without hesitating, the bite in his delivery as deliberate as he was when he had been cutting the very lines she was judging him for. He’s a little unsteady on his feet as he makes a swipe for his box of cigarettes that was open on the coffee table, taking one from it and tossing the box back where he got it before he held it between his lips to light it.

He needs to fill his lungs with something other than air, to prove to himself there was something in his chest other than the hollowness he feels at the conversation at hand, at the fact he would lose her to another country and to a man who could live a hundred life times and not deserve her in a single one of them.

( There was no man more qualified than him to make that observation — it was true for him too. )

“You’re right though, I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can be as good as you are at what you do and still be unwilling to be great. Because you’ll never be that with him dragging you down. One foot in this world, one foot in his. Half the focus, half the talent, half a person. Who the fuck are you, Van? Do you even know?” His question is asked around an exhale as he breathes out cigarette smoke, his stare locked on her from across the room. Even then, she’s too far away, yet he’s supposed to be able to stomach her in another country.

“Because right now, I don’t. You’re just some guy’s wife. It’s pathetic and it’s beneath you. And if that’s what you want to be, if that’s all you are, get the fuck out of this apartment, get on that plane and lose my fucking number. Have fun playing house, and when the house comes down on you and you realise you made a shitty call, don’t come knocking. Bassists aren’t hard to come by, we’ll be just fine. I’ll be just fine.”

VAN --

"Fuck you, too," Van bites right back without a moment's breath, like a reflex in spite of the fact that her voice rarely holds that kind of venom for anyone -- especially him.

She watches him with her jaw heavily set, biting on the inside of her lower lip as her eyes keep a narrow gaze on his movements.

Vanessa Gable feels everything from the heart, but in this moment she'd rather draw her own blood than give him the satisfaction of her tears.

Even when he's making her feel a foot tall.

Even when he's right.

"Do you even know?!" she shouts at him incredulously, the force of the words taking her a step forward.

"Because for the last three months you haven't looked me in the eye, X, you've fucking looked through them. This is the first time you've listened to a word I've had to say in weeks. We don't even fucking play together anymore because every fucking gig of the last leg has turned into the Xavier Matthews ego hour. And the last time you fucked me you didn't give a single fuck that it was me. You weren't even on the same fucking planet as me, there wasn't a fucking thing in your eyes and I -- I haven't ever felt that fucking used in my entire life so I think you've forgotten who the fuck I am, too."

She inhales sharply, eyes dead on him.

"So you know what? I'll be pathetic. And while we're at it, mark me down as a coward -- because if this is the path you're going to keep going down then I can't fucking walk it with you. I won't. I'm not gonna stay here and watch you run your fucking genius into the absolute waste that you seem to be aiming for."

X --

“There. That.”

X says with a point of his index finger at her, her words bringing about epiphanies in real time for him. The syllables feels like a scalpel to him, a phantom incision that slices from stomach to sternum until he’s nothing more than spilled guts on the floor.

“We’re not on the same planet. You can’t even comprehend where I’m at, what I’m aiming for.”

X thought he was clever enough to not befall the same fate as Icarus — he wouldn’t fly too close to the sun, he would become it instead.

A band that revolved around him, a fan base that found illumination in the light he cast, ambition that burned brighter than any open flame.

He was the fucking sun.

He had it all figured out. He had himself all figured out.

He never factored in Vanessa Gable.

The scorched earth that he would have to leave in his wake had never been a factor he cared about until it became her. Until it was soft hands and kisses that had meaning and talent that was enviable even to him. Until it became a feeling that was bigger than he was.

She’s all he wants to hold even though he knows she’ll turn to ash in hands if she stayed.

“If I’m that hard to be around, if you think I’m just a dead end road, go. You want to know why I’ll always choose the drugs over you? Because they choose me back. You never did. You never will. So you’re right. You are a fucking coward. So run back to your husband, to your marriage, to what’s easy and expected of you and when I win a Grammy and I’m stood there thinking who to thank I’ll look back on this moment and I’ll be so sincere when I say your name because I’ll be eternally grateful for the only good thing you ever did for me and that’s you getting the fuck out of my life.”

VAN --

She used to be able to tell when he would say something he really meant -- she could be laser-eyed and find the truest sentiment in the layers of bullshit he displayed to the world. She could find it in his lyrics and his rambling on-stage speeches, and in everything he ever said to her when it was just the two of them locked up in a hotel suite.

And even when she didn't agree, she always believed.

And now the waters are more foggy under the layers of mixed substances -- it's harder to tell anymore if there's a difference in what he's saying now or things he's felt all along. But the unwavering conviction is there, so it must be true.

And maybe he's right. Maybe this is the best thing she's ever done for him. Maybe she's been the selfish one all along.

Her head hangs in defeat a moment, amber hair curtaining her face as she sniffs sharply and wipes her eyes, nodding to herself before she brings her eyes back up to him.

There's tears in her eyes and a forced smile of pure heartbreak, making a last-ditch effort to give them both a goodbye that they could live with.

"I really hope you get that, Xavier," she tells him, and while her voice is hoarse and wavering, the sentiment is sincere.

"I look forward to being a footnote in your story."

With that, she turns and makes her way out of his door, closing it calmly behind her so as to not cause any further intrusion into his life.

She'd clearly done enough.

[sabrinariverdalefan]

I’ve got my eye on you

Okay so it’s been years since I wrote fanfiction but I have had this plot bunny in my head for weeks now so i figured might as well write it down.

Xavier Thorpe/Original character

Chapter One

Xavier found himself in Jericho just to have a change of scenery other than Nevermore this particular weekend. He didn’t expect to find the new object of his affection and attention- she just didn’t know it yet. The way she collided into his life quite literally had to be fate.

Standing outside of Addicts Anonymous the blonde haired girl fought the urge to turn her baseball cap forward to conceal her identity, not that it mattered anyways. The whole town knows of your overdose a couple of months ago. They know that you were in a coma for six days only to wake up and be shipped off to some cheap ass rehab. She’d lie if she said that nearly dying had changed her life - It didn’t. The moment she got out of rehab she visited her dealer and bought her usual cocktail of pills. Her thoughts shifted when something, or someone knocked into her hard.

Xavier’s instinct was to scramble to catch the petite blonde before she hit the ground. The first thing he noticed was her beautiful brown eyes, accompanied by one of the strangest visions he had ever had. A small girl in a normie classroom. Two cops entering the room. Being taken out of school. A small girl asking why can’t her daddy just come and take her room.

Elizabeth catches herself and immediately separates from him. Normally she’d tell someone off and tell them to watch where the fuck they were going, but she was taken aback by how serious his stare was.

Who are you? Xavier found himself thinking as he made sure that she was steady on her feet. A few older people who were waiting outside of the building gave him strange stares, but in that moment he didn’t care. “Sorry - I didn’t mean to hit you.”

The blonde didn’t recognize him from her school so he had to be a student at that Nevermore Academy outside of town. “It’s cool. We’re kind of taking up all of the sidewalk anyways.”

We’re? He immediately thought until he noticed they weren’t the only ones there. “Town hall meeting or something?” The boy found himself asking as he ran a hand through his long locks. Where have you been hiding? What sort of person are you? I need to know everything about YOU.

Elizabeth folded her arms across her chest and nodded slightly “A meeting, just not the towns…” She paused for a moment carefully thinking about her next reply. “It’s an AA meeting…you know addicts anonymous.”

Xavier knit his eyebrows as if he hadn’t quite understand what she has said. He had in fact heard, but it was a response that he couldn’t quite figure out how to answer to. Time was cruel however and the moment he opened his mouth, the group of people and his petite blonde headed inside. Standing there he watched her disappear from sight without so much as a goodbye.

I need to have you…

[nessieart]

Sunbeam. Mini Series.

Chapter 1

An: This has had a choke hold on me for days. So now you too have to suffer. Switches POVs, 3rd to 2nd, sorry if it's confusing!

Wc:~5k

Pairing: Tony Stark x Mutant!OFC(Fiona/Sunbeam)

She first met Tony Stark when she was 23. It was an accident, really.

Sitting in the common room at Xavier's School for the Gifted, the TV was background noise as she read her book. Logan was back, and his grunts and grumbles at the TV were distracting.

“What now, Logan? You've been complaining for 20 minutes,” she smirks at him, her toe digging into his side.

“The damn news,” he grumbles, practically crushing the remote in his hand. “Been the same thing for the last 3 goddamn months.”

When she looks over to the screen, it's another newscaster covering the disappearance of billionaire, philanthropist, and arms dealer, Tony Stark.

She hums, “I heard they were stopping military support ‘cause they don't believe he's alive.”

Logan grunts in response, flinging the remote on the coffee table next to his feet. His head falls back against the couch, and she lets out a giggle at him.

When she glances back to the TV, there were pictures of Stark from the last time anyone saw him alive. It looked like he was in a desert, a drink in hand, and the other shaking the hand of some military general.

The newscaster said the last known location was somewhere outside Afghanistan, his convoy took heavy fire, and almost everyone involved was injured or killed.

The more she thought about Stark and how the people in his life must miss him, the more her fingers tingle. The energy of the powers under her skin coming to the surface.

She places the book down so it doesn't burn. It certainly wouldn't be the first time she set something on fire.

“Need to let out some excess energy, Fi?” Logan tilts his head over to his adoptive daughter when he feels the crackle of powers in the air.

Being a mutant was a part of her. Fiona couldn't remember her early life, just living on the streets in Southern California. Until Professor Xavier and Logan rescued her. Fi, as Logan affectionately calls her, can't remember her parents. They dropped her at an orphanage when her powers first started showing.

She shakes her head, “no, just overthinking,” as she rubs her hands together, little sparks of energy pop in the air.

Soon after, she fled. Fiona was 6. She clung to Logan like gum on the sole of his shoes. He may have complained, but he didn't mind.

It was rare to see Logan without her trailing behind him the first few months.

“Fiona,” Logan shifts to get a better look at her. “You can tell me if something is bothering you, ok? I may not be, y’know,” he shrugs and gestures to himself.

“The greatest at sharing emotions?” she smirk.

Logan chuckles and gives a nod.

“Really, Logan, I'm fine,” Fiona reassures him. When she looks back at the television, the segment on Tony Stark is wrapping up, and she gives another fleeting thought about where he is.

Then it felt like she was falling. Straight through the couch, the floorboards, the mansion. Everything.

Logan calls her name, eyes in a panic, as his daughter disappears in the blink of an eye.

***

You shot out into the bright, hot sunshine some 30 feet in the air. However you got here, it was lost on you as you plummeted head over heels to the ground.

As you braced for impact, you couldn't help but notice all the sand. When you crashed down on your side, you tumbled down a sand dune. The scorching sun and sand burned at your skin as you tried to get your bearings.

You coughed the sand from your mouth as you stood, dusting it off your body, looking around.

Vast nothingness surrounded you. Endless hot sand dunes for miles.

Where the hell am I?

“Logan?” Your throat was scratchy from the sand. You coughed again to clear it. “Hello?” You called a little louder.

“You…” a voice called from behind you.

You spun around, flinging sand as you did, and brought your hands up to defend yourself. Little sparks of golden energy tickling your fingers.

The man stood a good 20 feet from you. He was sunburnt, bloody, and blistered. His old worn slacks had holes along the knees, and his gray tank top did little to protect him from the sun.

“You're here,” his voice was hoarse and rough. You wondered how long he's been out here. Wherever here is.

“I thought I imagined it, but” he laughed a little in disbelief, “you. You're here.”

“Uhh, yeah. Sorry, buddy. I don't really know where I am. Or who you are.” You spin in a circle before you face him again, “I don't even know how I got here!”

“It's me. I'm,” and when your brows furrow his shoulders slump, “Tony. Stark.”

You sputter and take a step towards him, “what? How? Where are we?”

“Afghanistan, more or less,” Stark shrugs.

You pace in a circle, still not understanding. “I was just in New York. Are you saying I'm on the OTHER SIDE of the WORLD??”

Stark falls backwards to land on his rear, panting breaths in the hot desert sun. “You’re telling me, I still can’t believe it myself.”

”Tony Stark. Oh my God. Oh my God,” you rush to him and land on your knees in front of him, hands hovering above him. “How are you - why - holy shit. Oh my God.”

”I get that a lot,” he snarks, head falling back as he shields his face from the sun with an old ratty shirt. You notice something blue glowing in the middle of his chest, but there’s more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.

”Wouldn’t happen to have a flare gun in those pajama shorts, would ya, kid?”

You look down at yourself, and sure enough, you’re in an oversized tee and pajama shorts. It was the middle of the night back in New York after all.

”I - um - well,” you bring a fist up in front of you, small sparks of gold form around your hand and then encase it in a golden bubble. You haven’t shown anyone outside of other mutants your powers before.

You can convert the sun's radiation into physical energy. Shooting golden rays of beams and projectiles of pure energy from your hands.

Sometimes when you get anxious, the power in your fingertips becomes a little unstable, and you have to release some of it so you won't cause an accident (which happens more often than not, you're still learning).

Rogue likes to call your abilities akin to the sun, like sun rays for the beams you shoot and sun orbs for the bubbles you throw. She was quick to give you the nickname Sunbeam, so it stuck.

When you glance up at Stark, he’s barely taken notice of the sudden energy emitting from your hand, eyes focused on your face.

”I’ve never - I haven’t…” Stark puts a hand on your arm and squeezes it lightly. He gives you a small nod, eyes heavy with exhaustion and face a little too sunburnt. His chapped lips pull into a thin line, you should do this. You have to do this. He’s been missing for three months. You both could die out here.

With one last big inhale, you raise your fist in the air and let loose a few energy blasts that shoot up like a firework. You open your hand and they explode like one too. Bright golden sparks of energy fill the sky a hundred feet in the air.

***

Colonel James Rhodes was not amused when he asked Tony how the hell you got in the middle of the desert in just your pajamas, when Starks only response was:

“You can see her too? I thought I was going crazy,” and never mentioned it again.

That was almost half a day ago, and now you’re about to touch down in Los Angeles.

Stark needed help getting into the dress shirt Colonel Rhodes had given him, so you tore the right sleeve of the shirt off for him.

”There, that should help,” you grinned at him. You helped him guide his arm into the sling and put it in place. “You should probably go to the hospital once we land, Mr. Stark.”

Stark hummed, picking up the suit jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

The massive Boeing C-17 plane landed on the Air Force base in Los Angeles after what felt like the longest flight of your life.

You followed Rhodes and Stark down the ramp of the plane, it seems he had people waiting for him. When your bare feet meet the tarmac, you look around, and across the lot, you see a sleek black jet, the ramp down, and two people you knew all too well waiting for you.

You ran past Stark and his group, not sparing them a second glance, “Professor? Logan!” When you reach them, you launch yourself at Logan, and he catches you with one arm around your back. He squeezes you just a little tighter than usual, but you don’t mind.

“Jesus Christ, kid. You scared the shit out of me,” Logan sets you down and puts a hand on your head. “Look a little sunburnt, too.”

“Professor, do you know what happened to me?”

Xavier hums, bringing one hand to his chin, “It seems there's more to your powers than I first thought.” He hums again, bringing a hand down to turn his wheelchair around. Before he can make it up the ramp, he pauses, “I believe someone wants to say goodbye, my dear,” he smirks.

You turn and see Stark standing a few feet away, he clears his throat, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

Logan growls behind you, and you glare at him, but he doesn't move. Instead he steps closer to you and crosses his arms over his chest.

Rolling your eyes, you go over to Stark, “I guess this is goodbye,” you fiddle with your fingers, golden energy sparking along your hands. “It - um - it was nice to meet you.” Your sentence ends in a small question, shoulders up by your ears when you say it.

“You saved my life,” Stark scoffs, “I think you can do better than ‘it was nice to meet you’, kid.”

Something about him calling you kid, didn't sit well with you. It was different when Logan, Scott, or the other older mutants would say it. But hearing Tony Stark say it sounded wrong.

“I'm not a kid,” you mumble.

“Fiona,” Logan grunts from behind you, “it's time to go. Now.”

Well that leaves little room for anything else when Logan says ‘now’.

You make the quick decision to give Stark a hug, going to the side where of his uninjured arm.

It's an awkward side hug, and he definitely wasn't expecting it, “take care of yourself, alright?” And you're back tracking toward the Jet before Stark could respond.

***

“Again!” Logan shouts across the training yard. He has singe marks littered across his uniform, every hit you manage to land isn't enough to knock him on his ass.

And Logan is getting frustrated at your lack of focus.

“C'mon, Logan,” you pant, hands on your knees as you catch your breath. “We've been at this for hours! It's been nonstop for the last few months, I need a break.”

He growled, and you could practically feel it vibrate across the room, “You need to get a handle on your powers, girl,” he started stalking towards you.

You shook your hands out, golden energy sparking at your fingertips.

To give Logan credit where it was due, your bubbles of energy were getting stronger. The more you fight with the Adamantium-boned mutant, the sturdier the bubbles become. You could even create small defensive shield-like energy bubbles.

“Pay attention!” He shouted right before his clawed fist came at you.

On instinct, or panic, your arms shot out wide, a large golden shield appeared between Logan’s fist and your chest. You sigh in relief, only a small part of his Adamantium claws pierced the shield this time.

You could see his arm flexing, his foot shifting to push his fist forward. He was hardly straining, and you were struggling to keep the shield up. Your arms straining to keep the bubbles around your hands connected to the shield in front of you.

Logan pushed, claws breaking through your shield and it began to crack. When his fist finally connected with your shield, the force of the break exploded and threw you backward. You landed on your back, and the force knocked the wind out of you.

“I told you, kid,” Logan began stalking towards you again, “get your shit together!”

Before he could reach you, he was stopped mid stride, and he flew backwards as well. Landing on his feet and skidding to a stop.

When you sat up, you could see Jean glaring at Logan, her hand coming down from her temples.

“That's enough, Logan,” her voice is finite. There's no room for arguing.

Jean kneels down next to you and places her hand on your shoulder. Her face is full of concern when she sees a gash on your cheek. You feel the blood trickle down and bring your hand up to wipe it away.

“Ow,” you pull your fingers away, and they come away soaked in blood, “must've been from my shield.”

Jean helps you stand, a few cuts are on your uniform, small specs of blood seeping through.

“Come on, Fi, let's have Hank take a look at you,” Jean leads you out of the training room, and before the doors close behind you, she waves her hand and you hear a loud thud. Logan plummets to the floor and shouts a curse out just as the doors close.

***

Turns out, the cut on your cheek was from Logan’s claw nicking your skin. Hank had to stitch it closed, or it wouldn't heal right. All the other small cuts were from your shield shattering, but nothing some antiseptic and a few band-aids couldn't fix.

Your hands had seen better days. They took the full force of your energy breaking. They looked burned, but Hank assured you they weren't.

“It most likely occurred when the build up of force from Logan’s punch and your energy containment orbs couldn't withstand the pressure,” Hank was wrapping your hands in gauze. Careful, clawed blue fingers handle you with care. He went on to explain how to care for the injury, and if you needed help, to find him and he'll do it.

You zoned out as Hank continued to talk. The voices growing in volume outside the medical room doors caught your attention.

Hank turned his back to you as he cleaned up, and you made your way towards the door, pushing it open just a crack.

“He's being reckless with her, Professor!” Jean's hands were wildly articulating to get her point across. “She’s in there right now because Logan can't control his temper or his strength,” she huffs.

Xavier seems to sense your eyes on him, and he looks up, going to speak, but you're sure he can read your mind without even trying.

Logan is leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He scoffs, “yeah, and she'll never figure out how t'unlock those Teleportin' powers unless I push 'er to do it,” he rolls his shoulders and gives the Professor a knowing look. “She asked for my help, and I'm doin’ just that.”

You open the door and step out into the hallway. You can see the group of eyes scan your body. The tank top and gym shorts Hank had you change into doing little to hide the cuts, scrapes, and bruises littered over your body.

You meet Logan’s eyes, and you notice the moment he sees the stitches on your cheek from his claws. His shoulders slump, and his arms drop to his side.

When he goes to speak, you hold up a hand, “I'm not a kid anymore,” you lift your chin just a little bit, “I appreciate you looking out for me, Jean, but I can handle myself. And Logan is right, I did ask him to help me because I knew he wouldn't hold back.”

You take a deep breath, and you feel something change in the air around you, “don't be sorry. Because I'm not,” and you step back into a crack that's formed behind you.

One second, you're staring at your friends in the Manson. You're sure you see the Professor give you a smile. Then, the next, you're in a garage. A half dozen expensive and fancy cars line the one side of the wall.

“Uuhh, how did you get in here? Who are you?” A voice says behind you. You haven't heard it in almost 5 months. “JARVIS?”

You spin around, and there stands Tony Stark in a wife beater and dark jeans. Hair a little disheveled. Some weird red and gold gauntlet adorning his right hand.

Sir, should I notify the authorities?

A disembodied voice says from around you, it makes you jump a little, fingers sparking, and then the energy dies out.

“No, it's fine, J. Fiona,” Stark's shoulders slump, and he makes his way toward you.

“Surprise?” You say, giving him little jazz hands, as much as your bandaged hands allow. You look around the garage. Behind Stark, there's a bunch of broken glass. The television on the wall talks about another attack in the Middle East.

“What happened here?”

He ignores you and brings his left hand to your cheek, right below the stitches on your left cheekbone.

“What the hell happened to you?” There's concern in his eyes, and you tilt your head to look at him.

“Training gone wrong,” you shrug. Stark picks up one of your hands by the wrist, bringing it to his face.

“And this?”

“The energy had to go somewhere,” you shrug again. Flexing your fingers, little sparks of energy radiate from the tips and travel down to where his hand is on your wrist.

Stark's eyes widened, fingers tightening a little, “What - I didn't imagine it?” You shake your head no. “What is it? How can you do that?”

You were expecting him to pull away in disgust or ask what you were. Maybe it's the genius in him that wants to figure out how your powers work.

“I'm a mutant,” that should explain everything, but his eyebrows pull together in confusion as he meets your eyes. “y’know, individuals with unexplained powers. The X-gene? I was born this way.”

Stark hums, stepping away and letting your wrist go. “Yeah, let's put a pin in that,” he takes his gauntlet off and holds up a finger as he runs up the stairs.

***

“Wow…” is all you say. Stark had his robots, or whatever they were, help him into this… suit. Different arms and parts are coming up out of the floor.

“That's amazing. You built this? What - what does it do?”

“Sit, watch. You'll see,” his tinny voice comes through the helmet on his head, and then he is off like a rocket up the ramp and out of the garage.

A moment later, the screens on the desk came to life, showing Stark's face on one screen and a HUD display of what he could see on the other.

“This - this is amazing. You're amazing! You can fly!” You laughed. You weren't new to people being able to fly. Some of your close friends could fly, but they were mutants. Stark was human. And he could fly.

Tony wouldn't admit the praise made him blush and a little flustered. He cleared his throat as his thrusters pushed him faster through the sky.

“Yeah, I'm pretty badass.”

You watched through the screens as night slowly turned to day. He cleared the Pacific Ocean in less than 10 minutes. You could hear the sonic boom from the sound barrier breaking as Stark flew faster.

Soon, he was landing at his destination. The chaos around the war-torn village quickly came to a halt as Stark used some kind of energy blasts out of his gauntlets.

Well, that looked familiar.

Just as he turned around, armed men grabbed hold of innocent villagers, the threat making your breath hitch.

“Tony…” You breathed, and he lowered his hands. Then the HUD scanned the faces of the people around him, labeling them hostile or civilians. In the next breath, small projectiles shot out of the suit and incapacitated the hostile forces.

You breathed a sigh of relief as Stark left Gulmira, but not before destroying what looked like Stark Industries labeled missiles.

***

“What was all that?” You asked.

Stark had just returned after his harrowing run in with the Air Force after his impromptu trip to Gulmira. Now, the robotic system was trying to get him out of the suit.

You rolled the chair away from the desk with a flair, pushing off and slowly coming to a stop to the side of Stark. He looked over at you with a smirk.

The robotic arms tugged and pulled, trying to get the suit off him, “Hey, ow! Watch it - ah ow!”

Well, it is a tight fit, sir.

You giggle at his discomfort, swinging the chair back and forth.

Sir, the more you struggle, the more this is going to hurt.

“Be gentle, it's my first time,” his leg was in the air as an arm tried to undo the bolts.

“Maybe you need an emergency release, Stark,” you laugh when he sends you a glare.

“What's going on here?” A voice startles you, and you jump out of the rollie chair that it gets sent backward into some cabinets.

Stark slowly turns to the woman, giving her a deadpan look, “Let's face it, this is not the worst thing you've caught me doing.”

“Are those bullet holes?” She breathes. “And who is she?” The strawberry blonde turns to you.

“Pepper - wait. Hey - ow!”

***

It took several hours for Pepper Potts to calm down, mostly because Stark was still trying to get the suit off. She left soon after, less in shock and more emotionally drained.

“I'm going to bed,” she announced and quickly left the garage.

It was quiet for a while. You stared down at your bandaged hands, fingers fiddling with the gauze. Whatever meds Hank had given you wore off a few hours ago, and the pain had slowly returned.

“Stark,” you called to him, he turned in his chair. He looked a little worse for wear, covered in grease and dark circles under his eyes.

“I should go,” you shrugged. His brows pulled together as he studied you.

“I did some reading, by the way,” Stark got up from his chair and began fiddling with the tools lining the bench. “That little X-gene of yours.”

He looked up through his lashes at you, one eyebrow raised.

You nodded, coming up to the other side of the tool bench from him.

“A lot of articles published by a Professor Charles Xavier,” he continued. “Pretty smart, your Professor. Attending Bard College at age 16. Graduating with a bachelor's degree in biology in only two years. A world-renowned geneticist with multiple Ph.D.s.

“And he'd rather teach at a school full of children. In the middle of Westchester? Never really added up. Until I met you.”

Stark had made his way around the bench to stand next to you, “what can you really do?” His eyes bounced between yours, a look of wonder in his irises.

You laugh lightly, “I'd show you if I could,” You hold your hands up. The bandages need to be changed soon. You wiggle your fingers, “all out of juice, sorry Stark.”

He studies you for a moment, leaning his hip against the table, “can you get back?”

You hum, you suppose you could. “It's different, making the portals and shooting a beam out of my hands,” You put a hand on his chest, a zap running up your arm and down your spine when you do.

Stark inhales sharply, eyes wide as he looks down at your hand on the glowing circle in his chest.

He explained to you that it was keeping him alive, keeping the shrapnel from the bomb explosion from reaching his heart. The arc, or something.

“Whoa,” you both said in unison.

The air around you is thick and charged. Whether it's from your powers sparking in the air or the closeness between the two of you, you can't be sure.

Stark leans his head down, tilting to the side to try and catch your eye, but before he can open his mouth to speak, you take a step back. Hand falling to your side as you go.

Sir, the diagnostics are finished. Seems to be multiple–

“Yea, ok JARVIS, I got it,” he cuts off his AI as he watches you back up.

“It was good to see you again, Stark,” you say, one hand coming up next to you, “stay out of trouble, ok?” A spark ignites at your fingertips. A bright tear like line appears in thin air. It opens, and it sounds like ripping paper in half.

The portal glows a golden orange like your powers, it's long enough for you to step into. You give him one last wave and a smile before you step through, the garage and Tony disappearing in the blink of an eye.

***

A week later, your cuts and the energy burns on your hands have healed almost completely.

Hank had taken the stitches on your cheek out. The gash would leave a scar, but you don't mind too much. A butterfly bandage keeps the gash closed so it can heal more.

Now, as you walk down the halls of the mansion, you're stopped by Rogue. She has a coy smile on her face.

“Have ya heard, sugah?” Her accent shines through as she nudges her clothed elbow against yours.

“Heard what? What's got you all giddy for?” You both stop near the library, her pulling you to the side like she has a secret to tell you. Well, maybe she does.

“That guy ya saved a few months back? They say he's the man in that red n’ gold suit we saw on the news the other night,” Rogue is grinning from ear to ear, her gloved hand grabs yours and pulls you further down the hall.

A few others are in the common room, crowded around the TV. Colonel Rhodes is talking about the explosion that happened the next night after you left Stark's house.

The marquee under the podium reads: STARK INDUSTRIES CEO TONY STARK TO READ A PREPARED STATEMENT TO THE PRESS IN COMING MOMENTS.

“You think he's a mutant, too?”

“No way, just some rich guy with too much time on his hands.”

There's chatter around the room, and Rogue leans into you more.

“Ya think his body turns inta’ all that shiny metal or sumthin’?”

You scoff at Rogue, and she elbows you again, giggling.

“Ya should go n’ see him,” she says quietly after a few minutes.

“What? No way would Logan let me go,” you roll your eyes at your best friend. “And he's not a mutant, Ro.”

“Says you,” she sticks her tongue out, “I won't tell him, sugah, swear.”

It takes hardly any more convincing for you to sneak out of the common room and into the library to make a portal and be where Stark is.

The sound echoes in the library, a loud rip sounds like 10 ripped pages of paper, the golden yellow portal opens, and you step through it.

You step into a hallway, you can hear chatter on your left, and you follow the noise.

It's the same room you saw on TV only moments ago back in New York. The room is filled with reporters and news crews, Rhodes is finishing up his speech and introduces Stark.

You're standing in the back, sticking out like a sore thumb with your ripped jeans and crop top. You may have borrowed Rogue's leather jacket, but you know she doesn't mind.

Your breath catches as Stark takes his place behind the podium, small bouts of conversation flair as he looks around the room. A few cameras flash, reporters raise their recorders up higher to make sure they get every detail of Stark's speech.

His eyes catch yours, and the corner of his mouth turns up a little, his lips pursed.

“Um,” he clears his throat as he looks around the room again, “it's been a while since I was in front of you. Figure I'll stick to the cards this time.”

You smile, and some people around the room chuckle. He's very personable, but you suppose he has to be.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Stark,” a woman reporter interrupts, “but do you honestly expect us to believe that that was a bodyguard in a suit that conveniently appeared–”

Stark cuts her off, “I know that it's confusing. It is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I'm a superhero.”

“I never said you were a superhero,” she crosses her arms.

“Didn't? Well, good, because that would be outlandish and fantastic. I'm just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistakes I've made, largely public,” Stark word vomits everywhere. Rhodes leans in and whispers in his ear. Stark nods.

He holds the cards up and clears his throat, “the truth is,” he stalls, eyes roaming the flash card in his hand. He glances up and finds your eyes on him, a glint in his irises as a smirk pulls at his lips.

“I am Iron Man.”

[wylde-lore]

DISCLAMER: Character sheet is outdated. A new one is in the works.

Wylde Family Lore!

Doctor Cedric A. Wylde

Looks (roughly) like this:

Hex-tech android

Mad scientist - specifically an arcanologist (arcanology is the scientific study of the arcane and supernatural) and biomechanical engineer

10,000 72 years old

Immortal

6'8 giant (I have a weakness for making my characters freakishly tall)

Stand User

Wields immense arcane power

Insane, but keeping himself together for his family's sake

Workaholic

Secretive

Polyamorous

Charismatic

Bleeder

Love language is physical affection

Licensed arms dealer. Currently under contract with the ASF - or Anonymous Special Forces

Takes commissions for individual clients

Australian accent

Janus

Split personality

An a$$hole, and he knows it

The only people he's not an a$$hole to are Wylde, Natah (Wylde's mother), @theblackcubeofdarkness, @xen-or-xavier-wylde, @director-raphael-turner, @emily-and-r, @love-lust-clown, and the kids

Calls Clown his "partner in crime"

Thinks Vine is both iconic and the pinnacle of comedy (he's right)

Polyamorous

Love language is brutal violence

Born when Smiles drove Wylde insane

Usually only comes out to play when Dr. Wylde's mental state has deteriorated to the point of breaking, but he is available to chat with at any time

Currently constrained to the mindscape and only able to interact with the material realm via controlling Wylde's body, though a physical body of his own is currently being constructed (hope y'all like biomechanical monsters)

Though just as powerful as Dr. Wylde, his complete lack of restraint, sadistic nature, and mental instability makes him far more dangerous

Australian accent

RP Rules:

All crossovers welcome

No NSFW of any kind

NSFW asks will be deleted

Keep it PG/PG13

Explicit/18+ roleplay is strictly prohibited and will result in a strike instantly

Racism, homophobia, transphobia, etc. will not be tolerated

Please keep in mind that the mod is religious - just in case

Respect my boundaries

Try to change my lore without permission. Try it. I dare you.

I do not take kindly to people trying to brute force others into doing what they want.

Everyone gets three chances. First violation and I'll let you off with a warning. Second violation and I'll block you on the related blog. Third violation and I'll block you on all of them. Any attempts to contact me after that will be seen as harassment and will get you blocked and reported.

Main Blog: @how-and-why-do-i-know-this

Wylde's theme:

Janus' theme:

[teahrosekim]

The name of NPCs pt.1

Andrew the Guide

Hanno the Dye Trader

Princess Tiara

Eugene the Merchant

Jimmy the Angler

Xavier the Arm Dealer

Emily the Nurse

Lunette the Dryad

Barkeep the Tavernkeep

Amy the Mechanic

Dalek the Goblin Tinkerer

Candy the Party Girl

Annabel the Stylist

Amanita the Truffle

James the Clothier

Arien the Zoologist

Arnie Palmfrond the Golfer

[xaviergalatis]

Said that hoe can not be mad at her

Makes me sad

Take that lil bitch in a date

They tryna copy my style watch how i jump in the crowd

All that matters is you the one feelin it

Pull up with the drake let the blow hit him

Autotune

How the fuck im flexong like this

When/while I land

Better hide yo bitch before zaza hit that

I just dropped a pill mom don't vacuume

Now every time I press a ecstasy

And now he living in a mental home

Ganging new fans no new hit record

Florida water

If 12 come kicking in my door today, I'll sit in a cell

Cuz' they gon find seven different drugs, and weed in the scale

Sometimes I think that I should quit but I know that's a never

I might go I'm

Herd your

Fuckin n that butch n gettin money

You done for soft

Only rapper from my city riding with switches on em

The AMG outside

Tokyo

These bullets got his head like John f Kennedy

I'm BeastMode, you don't know Mav

Xay

You're man is a goofy

He can get touched

Looking like I rob banks

I was looking at the gra! I don't even like likes

This is not mumble rap. This is murder rap

Headaches a migraine

I pop percs n

I put Louie on my beanie

Smoking on Skittles

You going broke trying keep up with me

My new chain is taller then johnny dang

Neighborhood dealer

Never gave a fuck that's how I got rich

See you in pictures with too many opps

These racks be the reason I walk with a limp

Chrome heart

The outside white the inside brown like Michael Jack

!maybe in 4 5 minutes

The rest of the plan got scrapped when I land

Life sweet when you know the cost

Brooklyn

Pharaoh

Mary denim

Draco

these little rapper bois

Maybach truck

Awful records

Brush teeth

This ain't mumble rap this murder rap

Young skinny nigga with my dick in my hand

!y wrist a surgeon

Vest

I been popping seals

Smoking exotic

Shoot from the neck up

Pipe

Pull up with a stick let it hit

You can't match my energy

He don't even stop to get gas

Stand on that

You can get smoked trying to lil bro me

Group chat

Blown

WHat(ADLIB)

Fire arms on fire arms

With the chainsaw took his brains off

Eat the cake anime

We only shoot from the vest up

Fear of God

You know people gone be talking about us weekly

Lil Uzi but I'm nice now

Barely open up the curtains to the rooms I work in

I'm in the booth with a strap on me right now

My fico score is amazing though

Financial freedom my only hope

Voice inside my head said wet then if they test you

Heat your home like southern California gas

I bought a phone just to Snapchat pics of that wet ass pussy

They didn't see me cuz I was in my other Benz

I heard you stay in a metropolitans home

Who knew would do so much damage the internet wouldn't have the bandwith

I rewrite history I don't care about yesterday

Colosseum floors

At the air port they check all through my bag tell me that it's random

Should have been signed twice

Fuck you pay me

Yeezys on I don't slip

She swallow my kids

Big chop knock a nigga out zapatos

Put my kids on her titty

We only shoot from the neck up

I'm wit lil maceee If I catch a opp I cannot catch a Casey

in the hills like a pop star

Oh she thinks she funny bitch I'm halirous

I got the bad bitch doing !y dance

Fuckin with the mob shit get too scary

Why you rap like that if you ain't been up on a mission

Trigger happy quick to knock em down if he slipping

Eating crepe

You know we do shit out of spite

Future looking bright imma need some Ray-Bans

23 have the game in a gift wrap

Diamonds hit no light

Way befor I thought I get a deal

I hit it once then I hit the dash

My diamonds is wet just like the pool

Zay

Xavier

I didn't even need to use the AK

I really mean it I'm just not recording

Metro

Like Mike

No new friends

I don't check the price

Make my own money so I spent it how I like

Pimp hand

The game

Cashout

No numbers all apps this an encrypted phone

I keep the bread tied

Throwing C's

Said she USD to model for American apparel

Lil mama

Slave ship

Active

I feel like snapping today

Finna hit racks

I know she want to kickki it with me uh huhhh

Red flag

better keep it in your lap if you at that light

Spanish bitch

Nothing less then an FN

Hoe

Government name

Papi

In the home town riding rentals

Carrier woods on my face that's 8 bracket

Fake friends

Running man

Another six months, I'll be unknown

Remember the time that I spilled the cup

Of apple juice in the hall

The i8 I'm in, ain't came with no keys

Top

If I spend money imma go back and work it off

Flipped a one to a five flipped a five to a ten

Get off my dick little bitch

I need somebody and always

The webs from all the spiders

Uh, I don't like no Swisher, I like Grabba Leaf, lil' nigga

I never conquered, rarely came

Sixteen just held such better days

I got little hitters on the block now

Call my Glock the seatbelt the way I click it

I just be shippin' that Za', shippin' that somebody farted,

huh

Drakes ghost writer

This ARP got a red sight

Starts in the roof

Glocks on me and they lethal

Hop in srts and do fruity loops

He can't play big bank

Higher then God

Popped a 10 mg by myself had to relapse

Top friends

Oh, we on that shit too, I used to hit licks too

I see that boy gotta clap em

That one that you love sucks the whole squad

Sippin on muddy everything kid Cudi

Ride around the 212 with the stick on me

Choppa hit his ass make em do flips

I'm in Toronto like I'm cool with the drake

Sup syrup

Shorty

Cutter on me

Hell cat

One mic

I fuckk with Souljah boy

Shoot the shot long range

Try me and get swept

Doing numbers on the phone alone

She need ID she can't get in with out it

Move it to my place

Been a couple years since my child had a job

I ain't trippin', let 'em rest in peace

Ride around the city I don't need a wear a vest

Up pockets sitting in the trap

Fucked with a sick bitch now I got a cold

I'm faded than a hoe

Jump out

I really had them grams before you had a gram

How does it feel when you got no food

I swear these bitches !y mini-mes

Call me John Madden, fuck her in the Aston

Martin dropped the top bitch you know what's happening

I ain't gonna stop smoking on that Mary Jane

Look !e in the eye

Really bout that life

I am not a clone

10 toes

Straight top shelf shit

District the gang end up missing

Smoking hits off tinfoil again

I'm smoking dope in the v

I fuck your hoe for a week

Bitch as hella fat need a ass shot

I always keep a hoe I keep some

My feen bout to nodd off

Ipad

Phone

Ain't gotta lie about schemes

AP on my left wrist

Was it the Kush or the cologne forgot what I put on

Might as well record every thing I say on this

All I do is push the beat I don't write shit

Look how I walk on the beat

It's hard to tell my smoker no when he got 3 ones

We ain't here to make friends

Homie calling asking for visits

Susan bake both caught bodies

How your homie wear a vest but don't stay wit a strap

I beat the boss then text him you gotta eat the loss

My bro said he alright then killed himself why you lie to me

When your man got smoked that was my best blunt

Got the bread let it go like a hostage

I was in the park spray-painting on the platform

Half a mill to perform, I can’t let them fuck that shit up

Plus I love the way my middle name looks when it’s lit up

My psychiatrist got kids that I inspired

Some days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans

If I knew y'all made plans, I wouldn't have popped the Xans

feel like Pablo when I see me on the news my

She keep pushin' me back, good dick'll do that

I keep a clip

Keep calling my phone bout his bitch

The industry

About to go back in

Coulda ran off the plug

But I kept it real and I showed him love

Bro just jumped out the ride with a mask on, face like he dodging COVID

If we go uptown, gotta hold that (Whoosh)

Wanna fly Dubai tonight? Lastminute.com, I'll book that flight

They gon turn up the AC then charge you for the blankets

Some paid 4-5 serious

it's July, shots get hot like summer heat

Body armor on, warmer in my palm

New project I let dram do it

The lights hit

Black President

How can you call me bro he's not my bro he breaking the code

She cheat I cheat we even

Good hair good body good face

I'm up in all the stores

Braid my wig ASAP tat on my ribs

It seems like r Kelly wet dreams I kept six teens

Countin' up in the Polo socks

Tommy Hilfiger my waistband, ayy I'm fire, I'm fuego (Fuego)

Ferragamo on my belt

Bitch mob

Went to jail for like 500 days

I know lil b he fucked !y bitch too

I might take I case I'm not living straight

I'ma keep selling that crack in

Them females plan on doing me wrong so I grab the thumb out the trojan pack

Met somebody baby mama inside of the VIP

I live fast die young, never take it slow Tell your girl to tell a friend that it's time to go

Yes sir

am nothing like these other niggas coming out this year"

So well spoken man I should have went to Cambridge

Please comprehend I am a Surf Club general

You don’t want be caught in the middle like a center fold

I'm calling your bluff don’t act like you can’t see me dialing

I waited four days, nigga, where y'all at?

I keep my noes as clean as I can

360 Yeezy boosts these ain't Roches

I'm tryna bust down a rollie

You make assumptions again

Middle fingers up

Middle of the function wanna gimme hug

Sippin suryp

MacBook on my arm I ain't got no dell

[kandadiff]

Van Der Wulff - Hours in Christmas

~ 1 Am Christmas Day ~

"Are you and your companion okay, mr Mendes?" One of the crew members asked Shawn as he settled down in the makeshift bed of the private jet. He has red hair, cut into a formal style and his way of standing made him seem oddly professional in this laid back space. He was grateful that, like his own father, Roman's family was involved in illicit arms deals overseas - meaning the people who worked for them knew how to keep their mouths shut.

"Yes, thank you." The man bowed slightly and was about to close the door when Shawn quickly pulled out a $50 bill from his jeans pocket and handed it to the man. "Thank you again for helping me with the meds. She gets nervous on flights - its better that she just stay asleep." The red head nodded thanking him for the tip before leaving you and Shawn alone.

Shawn moved over to where you were laying down and pushed the covers lovingly over your sleeping form. The pills of Xanax sat on teh nightstand along with the Xanax laced water the had you drink as soon as you were coming back into consciousness. He was grateful for roman's lack of questions, because he was coming up with a plan on the fly. Good thing he wasn't to bad at it.

He knew Greece would be the location that would be the safest to take you at. Of course it was because unlike you, he spoke Greek. He was secretly thankful his father loved history so much and instead on so many trips to Greece when he was growing up. They learned the language together - it was a good bonding experience he always remembered with a smile. Now it would really help him.

In Greece you would only communicate with people that spoke English and everyone who worked at the house his father bought there was indebted to Negan.. They would listen to Shawn to a tee as long as he spoke fondly of them to him. They would not help you leave. The calls he made just two hours ago reinforced their loyalty to him. He had told the woman who worked for him to go buy enough clothes, accessories and makeup for two weeks and for all occasions in your size. He was sent a picture of few minutes ago that they were nearly done. He even asked his most trusted man, Stefanos, to order you three wedding dresses.

Yes, this was the only way. He wasn't sure what Xavier had on you bur whatever it was would never compare to the power his father had - and by extension him. He could handle Edward, after all to him Edward was his fathers plaything - something to make Shawn work harder and after this trip once he had you all to himself he would and prove to Negan once he was ready to retire it would go to him. He would keep Ed too - just to taunt him with you. He'd demote him to some lowly drug dealer and he would show you off as his wife and partner. He'd do the same with his piss stain of a god father.

That thought made Shawn smile as he settled under the silken sheets provided by the crew. His brown eyes found his phone screen laughing to himself as it pinged with a note from his sister, Ellia sent in a group text.

Ellie : MERRY CHRISTMAS FAMILY! 🎅🏻🎄❄️ WILL BE ARRIVING IN A COUPLE OF HOURS. LOVE YOU ALL!

Love you too Ellie.

Shawn responded and silenced responses. He would miss seeing his sister this Christmas but everything he bought her was all under teh tree.He chuckled at the thought, shit everything he bought you is under your tree as well. You'd have to open it when you were Mrs. Mendes.

Shawn looked at your sleeping form and a rush of tenderness overcame him and as he pulled you over to him and you settled into him. He knew he was making the right choice. Sure it might look complicated but you'd never ever meet another man like him. Willing to take charge and erase all those assholes from your life. No, you'd never meet another him - he was perfect for you. Sure he made mistakes before but not anymore. With that thought still in his head, Shawn held you tight to him and kissed your forehead. "We'll have a wonderful life."

~ 2 AM Christmas Day ~

Following a disastrous meeting of Rio and her parents a few days ago Makayla had been in a high-funtioning depressive slump. Caught between the love (and fear) she had of her parents and the love she had for Rio.

She ignored him for three days, the worst thoughts she had every thought about herself were pushed to the forefront of her mind and assaulted her at a rapid fire pace. What could she tell him? 'I'm sorry my parents hate you? I'm sorry you chose to be with a loser drug addict? I'm sorry I'm a stupid girl with foolish dreams who never learn?' Shame covered her from head to toe and she hated that feeling and did not want to drag him into this. He probably didn't want her anyway. Why would he? She came with mountains of baggage. He deserved better and she was getting what she deserved.

She had went to sleep early last night hoping to escape her thoughts, but as soon as she opened her eyes at 1 in the morning. They were right there with her again. She moved to the kitchen hoping a sleep tea would help her get rest but instead was met with Rio walking into the house, just as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

Rio stood by the doorway watching her closely. The diamond and ruby bracelet he had gotten her as an early Christmas gift still adorned her wrist and it seemed to be the only jewelry on her. So she didn't move on? As she moved her eyes scanned her neck for any marks left by another. He didn't think there was someone else but paranoia had gotten the better of him since she was ignoring his calls and texts. When she looked up at him, his heart ached for her. Her chestnut brown eyes looked up guilty at him, like a child who was just caught with their hand in the cookie jar. "Are you ready to talk?" He couldn't help the cool tone in his voice, he was upset with her. She hung her head in shame. "You've been ignoring my calls and texts. I had to make sure you were okay." He looked at her, her dark hair covering her face as she stared at her hands. He waited for a few moments. "Should we talk about you ignoring me?" He heard a small sniffle and despite his cold tone, he felt his chest tighten. Was it over? He waited a few moments and said her name. "Makayla, let's talk." She nodded. "I was worried about you, why did you ignore me?"

She looked up at him with teary eyes and motioned for him to follow her to the living room couch. "Because my parents hate you and its embarrassing! I am embarrassed!" He straightened up preparing himself for what was to come. She was going to leave him, because of her parents? Did they mean that much to her? She couldn't leave him! He loved her- maybe he could get rid of them- "Like, you're a great man, Rio, You helped me, you care about me, you treat me like a princess and I thought that would finally be enough for them. Hey, Makayla is happy lets be happy for her, we are her parents thats all we should want. But its not! I am still there biggest disappointment. An addict loser," she wiped her tears that were now streaming down her cheeks. "they don't know you and they hate you because of me! because they don't think I can make any good choices and thats not fair to you! My parents hate you and I feel so terrible because its my fault!" she sobbed into her hands unable to look at him.

Rio wrapped his arms around her shoulder, pulling her shaking form to him. Tears wet his collar as he sobbed into his neck but he kept her close, stroking her hair. They stood like that until Makayla calmed a bit, her crying hiccups faded and she clung to him like a koala to a tree. "Darling," his voice saying her nickname made her look up at him. He wiped a tear away. "You're not a loser. You are so far away from being a loser. You are an incredible, bright and kind person and your parents do not deserve a person like you. Them, not liking me, is not on you. It is on them. I don't need their approval to love you, I just need yours. And I do love you Makayla and I fall in love with you more and more each day. Every story, every laugh, every tear makes me love you more. If they can't see that, then they don't deserve you. You're better then them."

"I wish."

"You are." he said with such conviction she looked away. Then settled into his arms, burrowing herself on his lap. Small sobs still left her body as she attempted to calm herself but it became less and less as he soothed her.

"I love you." she whispered up at him and took his hand in hers. "Please don't leave."

~ 3am Christmas Day ~

Having parents around was less dramatic for Katya. At least with her family, since her mother passed she was incredibly close to her family and saw them quite often. However, she didn't know that it would be other parents that would be her problem this week.

As soon as Taehyung returned from Korea, he apologized for everything and practically begged for her back. She would be a big liar if she said she didn't still care about him - possibly even love him. He asked to give him another chance. So she decided that she would but it would go very slow and he was not to tell anyone and she told no one either.

But when his very traditional parents came from Korea to visit she was reminded why it was a problem in the first place. They looked down at her - she wasn't Korean which meant she wasn't worth wasting time on and when his father told her that much she left BTS's house leaving her Christmas gift for V. He had stormed after her. Which is why they sat in V's warm car just down the block from her home at 3am on Christmas.

"Katya" he held her hand tight in his. She wasn't squeezing back - to tired or to upset to deal with it. "Katya, I have made mistakes but being with you has never been one. I won't loose you again-"

"It is not about that!" She snapped at him. Her accent becoming thicker and she wondered if he could still understand her. "You can love me all the way to the sun but it does not stop your parents from hating me! I will never be the perfect girl for you to them and that I could be okay with but you cannot be! you broke us up because of them! they have not changed but you have?" She shook her head and folded her hands over her chest. Her aqua eyes bored into his so strongly he had to look away.

It wasn't untrue that V still loved Katya. Being in Korea for three months just made him miss her more. None of the girls he tried to use to get over her ever compared to her. And it was going well for a while until his parents came with all there traditional values. And he loved his parents and he loved Katya but she was right. He couldn't have both happy. "You're right." he admitted and her eyes softened to sadness. "I want both but I can't have it." He squeezed her hand and this time she squeezed it back. "I'm sorry." he said "I don't know what to do."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "When you know, tell me." With that she got out of the car and headed back to the house. He followed her in the car closely watching her go inside before heading back home. His thoughts like a hurricane in his head.

~ 4am Christmas Day ~

After the rumors about her swirled around her parents and they belittled her for her sexuality Draven had told them to leave. They fought with her and said they were going to stay but they left early yesterday morning and to celebrate her and Jiwoo went out drinking at Slaughter.

She didn't even make it to her room she was so exhausted from the night - that as soon as she entered the house around 3:30 she fell asleep on the couch. Or at least tried too.

BAM! Something fell just above her head. She groaned and turned over on the couch. The Christmas tree lights illuminating around her with blinking colorful lights. She waited for someone to come down the stairs with broken pieces of whatever fell or maybe they needed a midnight snack but no one came down. She grumbled to herself and pulled the afghan over her body attempting to sleep again.

THUMP! BAM! Another noise - coming directly above her. "My god!" She moaned and waited for a moment trying to remember who's room was just above her. It was yours. "Fucking Adi!" She stood up, pausing a moment while her brain adjusted to the fuzziness in her head. She stomped up the stairs and threw open your door. Her eyes scanning over your room before she gasped at the figure in your room - way too tall to be you. She quickly flicked on the light and adjusted her rings in case she had to swing. The light caught the golden hair of Xavier looking at her with surprise. The window was open and a few of your decorations lay on the floor.

"Its just me." He said and she looked at him confused.

"Why did you go through the window?" She asked her head pounding. She caught a look at herself in the mirror in teh corner of the room and shook her head. She did not want to deal with this tonight. Where the fuck were you? she looked around for you but the bed didn't hold your sleeping body and the bathroom door just down the hallway was open.

"Sorry, I didn't think anyone would answer the door this late and I usually see Adi this way-" he laughed and Draven motioned to the bed where you weren't. "I was going to surprise her in the morning." He held up a bag of Christmas gifts. "I think she's at the hotel with her parents."

"lucky her." Draven said dryly. "Just keep it down. I'm trying to sleep." She said and he nodded watching as she closed teh door and headed to her room.

~ 5 AM Christmas Day ~

There was a reason certain people could do bad things and not be caught. It was easy for Luther to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. To teh outside world, He was a model citizen, a wonderful award winning professor, a humble man, a great father - who had hit hard times and was in a sort of separation from his wife. Who practically everyone labeled a ‘dumb bitch’ while he shook his head in polite disagreement. He was good at playing the part of a good man. 

He easily gave my passport to the border check, passing off my passed out form in the backseat as much needed napping. The syringe he used to dope me up with sedative hidden in his messenger bag. But to him it was worth the risk.

It was like being on drugs when he was with me. Hyped and delirious. I was a drug, something that starts in small doses but quickly becomes not nearly enough. According to him, my very being demanded his attention, demanded that he see me and crave me.

He knew this could only go one of two ways, he'd get his way and we would marry. Keep a long honeymoon in Mexico and return to town happily married. I'd leave that foolish school, leave Funhouse to Naomi and maybe have a kid or three. That was his best hope - or it could be the way which the would lay out as soon as the sedative wore off.

He parked in the attached garage of the Mexican house his grandfather had left him years ago. He loved it here - his happiness memories were made her and he hoped there would be more. He unloaded the bags setting his own up in the bedroom and mine in the guest room. Though he knew I probably wouldn't be there for every long not until it settled in that this could only go two ways.

He picked me up and gently placed my limp body on the guest room bed. He wanted this to be pure. His eyes raked over my sleeping form but he was determined to do this right. No sleeping together until the wedding night and he would get rid of this trashy fashion. He sneered down at my dress. 'Could it even be considered a dress? the fabric was thin and why was it two contrasting bright colors - no no this would not do.'

He undid one of the suitcases he packed full of new clothes that he considered appropriate. He quickly pulled off the dress, forcing himself to just place on the new dress. A longer one, up to my knees with a v neck in a pale pink. He smiled and moved to the kitchen to toss out the rag I had been wearing before.

He was caught a bit off guard when he heard a thump in the guest room. Rushing over there he saw me sitting up in bed. My hair was a mess in front of my face, covering the large bruise on my forehead that he immediately regretted when he did it. But he had no choice. He smiled when I looked up at him confused. He knew I'd be weak or nauseous for a few minutes until the sedative wared off.

"Luther" my voice was small and dry from lack of use. He quickly rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and bringing it back to me. He opened it and handed it to me. I looked at it wearily, he took a sip showing it wasn't tainted and I drank from it hearty. He waited until I was done and sat next to me. "Where are we?" So I didn't remember?

"Merry Christmas, my snowflake. We are in Mexico, sweetheart." He said moving my hair from my face. God, he wanted to kiss me. Maybe a kiss wouldn't be so bad. A kiss wasn't that bad - he could still make me pure - we just couldn't sleep together. "You might be a little disoriented. The sedative has that effect."

"Sedative?" I asked blinking slowly. My body felt weak, almost numb. My mind felt hazy, like a thick gray foggy that was trying to dissipate as quickly as possible. Even in my daze, my body felt something was wrong. I needed to go. It was dangerous here. This was a dangerous place. Go! Where was I? Why was I here? Why was Luther here? "Where is everyone?" I asked sitting stiffly next to me. I looked around "Hello?!" I shouted. My voice was still hoarse but it was loud enough. "Hello!"

"Stop." he ordered but I didn't. Instead I stood back up and went towards the door and looked around.

"Hello!" I was scared. I didn't know this place and looking around I could tell no one was in it. But us. I was in Mexico with a man I didn't trust. He stood up and grabbed my arm and the memories of last night came flooding back.

I felt his presence behind me and I felt like vomiting. my heart was beating wildly in my chest and my eyes darted all over the place. Looking for an exit. I spotted what looked like the front door and started to run.

I was still feeling the effects of the sedative and Luther reached me before I even came close to the door. I screamed and tried to push him off me but he dragged me back to the guest room. His voice calmly telling me to "Stop screaming." I couldn't stop. I screamed for him to get off of me as I felt my back hit the bed. I punched and clawed at him as I shrieked. "fine if you don't stop." My wail was hushed by his lips over mine and he pulled me to him. Kissing me like we were lovers. I hit him as hard as I could in the face hitting his eye and he let me go for a minute. I tried to get back to the door but he grabbed me by my hair and clamped his large hand over my mouth.

He dragged me harshly by my hair and moved to the door I nearly escaped to. "You need to listen!" he flung open the door and yanked me down the stairs into a darker room. He flung me towards a wall. I groaned as I hit the tile and a bright light flooded my vision. I scrambled up and saw this room was modeled like a bedroom. A small cot sat in the corner along with a book shelf, a nightstand and a small shower and toilet.

I looked back at him and his eyes softened. "No." I cried out.

"I know you're scared and you want to go home. I'll take you home soon but you have to listen to me." he said but I couldn't. I couldn't stay down here. I ran towards the door but he stopped me. "No, no, no listen." He ordered. "Please stop, Snowflake - just listen. if you keep fighting then I'll have to leave you here until you calm down." I ignored him and kept screaming, feeling my vocal chords ache and he shook his head disappointed. He shoved me back hard until I fell back. "I'm going to leave you until you can calm down." I screamed again but then he looked back at me a small smirk on his lips as he looked back at me. "With the door shut no one can hear anything down here. I sound proofed it myself so go ahead and scream and shout if you want. You won't bother anyone."

~ 6 AM CHRISTMAS DAY ~

The Grecian weather was nothing short of paradise and when you felt the sun on your face. Your eyes fluttered open and given the luxury of the room - for a minute you thought you were back in France. At one of your mothers friends fancy houses that she insisted everyone stay at after they drank their weight in wine.

You sat up looking around and jumped when you saw a maid fluffing teh curtains in teh corner. When she heard you shift she turned around and gave a small smile she spoke with an accent you couldn't identify but you would make out what she was saying. "Good morning, Mrs. Mendes. What would you like for breakfast?"

~

**Extra

bedroom you're in & the bedroom I am in without the window for mine

[leather-blr]

they r thrice divorced

[stuckybarton]

Maneater

Summary:  Nathan Summers has come to realize there was more to you than just the Assistant Teacher in Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Warning: Profanities. Suggestive Contents. Not Beta’d. [if I miss any warning please let me know] Characters: Unnamed Female Character x Nathan “Cable” Summers Words:1,761 A/N: Another one. Lol

Masterlist

For the life of Nathan Summers, the craziness that had come in his arrival to the past, the only sane thing he could look forward to was you. Y/N Y/L/N. An assistant teacher to one Piotr Rasputin, and an overall well loved individual in the X-Mansion.

You were the first one to not bat an eyelash at his arrival all those months ago. Unlike most of the people that grew hostility to the band of misfits Wade had pulled into the mansion, you had been more welcoming and accommodating. You had treated every single one of them as normal people instead of the mutants everyone in the world has deemed them to be. For a moment, Nathan had thought you weren't a mutant, but training had proven otherwise. An empath that could manipulate anyone's emotion if you so much please. A great power and perfectly fitting from someone like you.

Unlike most of the people in the Mansion that give no shit to one Wade Wilson and his eccentricities, you tried your best to understand the man while also making sure he was never out of the line. You were often called the female version of one Colossus, just more hotter and less annoying--Wade's words, not his.

But then, this quite image he had believe he had seen of you was growing to be different when he finds out about your nightly escapades. Anything that did not involve a mission or your class, you prefer if no one bothered you when the clock struck six. You'd be out of the door and into your waiting car, only to returning by three or four in the morning for classes that morning.

No one really knows where you go, not even the nosy Wade Wilson had any idea of your nightly whereabouts. So imagine Nathan's surprise when he had to meet up with his new arms dealer at a shady strip club an hours drive from the mansion and there you were, in all your naked glory.

Supple skin contrasted greatly to the pole you were leaning on. Money had been flying nonstop in your direction, no wonder you always spared Wade cash like it was nothing if he asked. You got a whole different life that no one knows about.

"Interested in Bonnie over there?" His arms dealer broke Nathan from his shocked trance. If the seedy little bitch didn't have the best arsenal he would have punched him right in the face. "Put her in a VIP room with you and everything in your possession is gone. That's how good she is."

Just the idea of having you lap dancing on some stranger had his blood boiling. He couldn't imagine you that way. to have some dirty hands holding onto you. You, the innocent little woman that he had tried not to think about so much since his arrival to the mansion--but just can't seem to shake out of his mind.

"I'll test my luck."

And he did, one request from the waitress and a heft amount of money that was supposed to be for one of the guns, he was escorted to the VIP room, asked to patiently wait as Bonnie was finishing up her set on the stage. It had given him enough time to question himself why he was doing this? You had your secrets as much as he had his own, secrets he wasn't even prepared to acknowledge.

But it was you, one of the only person in the past that he can't seem to get out of his head.

It didn't take long for the door to open and the woman that had constantly gave him the beaming smile every morning now come face to face with him. To say shock was an understatement as he looked at you. A mix of different emotions now swam your features, watching you and you thinking this was a sick joke by another mutant on her.

"Nathan."

"Cable would do here, Bonnie." he points out.

His eyes fell towards your barely there clothing. A thong and a top that barely hid the swell of your breast. In one swift motion, he had peeled off his jacket to cover you. The jacket had completely swallowed you and it was enough for him to not be distracted.

"So this is were you go every night?" he inquired eyes wandering around the claustrophobic room.

The walls were of a dark shade, with neon lights as one of the only thing giving the room light. There was this hedonistic glow in you that he had never seen before. Maybe it was the way he had always sees you now, a complete opposite on how he had always viewed you. An innocent woman in a world that was too fucked up for someone like you--then here you were, part of the fucked upness of this world.

"You wasted God knows how much just to ask me that?"

He did. He genuinely wasted a lot of amount of money for you, but then again, it was you so it wasn't much of a problem to him.

"I want to know why you're doing this? You're already working as a teacher at the Institute, why do you need to be here? You make enough money as it is back there?"

You scoffed, pulling the jacket tighter around you. Only then did Nathan notice the way you took a deep breath, and the warmth of the room was more of your own powers seeping through. Arousal? He shook his head, hoping to keep his head at bay of all the dark thoughts swimming him.

"It's not about the money?" you muttered, now sitting besides him on the leather couch. "Sure I do get money from those seedy criminals, but this is the easiest way of getting intel for missions." she shrugged.

"So Wade knows about this?"

"God no, The Professor and Piotr know. Piotr was the one that found me in this hellhole. Saved me from it, this is just until I'm certain that there are no more mutants like me are in places like this."

Now it becomes clearer to him why you were like this, why you understood their cause more than the rest of the X-Men. But it didn't stop the worry from sipping through his core. What if you get into involved with men that weren't immune to your powers. Where would that leave you?

"You don't need to worry about me, Nate." The name still surprised him. But other than that, you now on his lap surprised him even more. "So how much did you spend on me?" you inquired, ass now dangerously close to his crotch.

"Enough." he muttered hands now falling to your jacket covered waist. The smell of the intoxicating perfume and your own pheromone seeping through your skin consuming him. A heady combination that was far too dangerous if used at the wrong people.

"You're gonna tell everyone about my secret?" you inquired leaning closer to him. The swells of your breast now touching his own solid ones.

"You want them to know?" he retorts.

"No."  you shook your head, meeting his eyes. Huh, behind this facade you show to Nathan, the person he was more than well acquainted with was breaking through. But the softness on top of him was making it hard for him to really think clearly.

"I don't know, Red Dildo would love the pole dancing lessons." he tried his best to crack a joke but the stern look on your face made it evident that this isn't a laughing matter to you. "Fucking hell, that's your secret to tell. Why the fuck would I bring it up, to the X-Men of all people."

Before he could convince you even more, having you lean even closer to him, breath fanning his cheeks, he was left tongue-tied. There was this line that the two of you were breaking and it scared him more than anything what it would mean once they step out of it.

"I trust you, Cable." you whispered before your lips finally met his own.

The taste of cherry intoxicated him. He consumed you, consumed you in the same way that you were beginning to consume him. Mind, body, and soul. Hands resting on his shoulders and his own in a deathly grip on your hips, pulling you closer. Creating as much friction on his crotch in the process.

"What are you doing to me, Nathan Summers?" Your breathless words brought him back to reality. Your hands rubbing against his chest and he was more than certain you could feel the frantic heartbeats.

"I could ask you the same thing, Y/N Y/L/N." he smirked looking up at you,

With your bottom lip now between your teeth, it took every ounce of control Nathan had to stop himself from taking you here and ignoring the possibility that anyone else could walk in on them.

"You want them to know?" you inquired between the two of you. A smile now breaking on your face, brightening the dark room.

"No." he shook his head, whatever this was, they needed to keep this a secret, God knows the handful of innuendos and crude remarks Wade would be ready to fire if he finds out about this.

"I don't know, you're a good kisser. Wade might need a few pointers from you." you teased, finger touching his lips. Feeling playful, biting one finger and immediately earning himself a light slap on the chest.

"He can kiss my ass for all I care." he muttered kissing you quickly before pulling away. "I gotta head back out, still got a few guns I need to check." he muttered already annoyed at the possibility of leaving this little piece of heaven in favor of a slimy bastard he has to do business deals with.

"Let me deal with him." You volunteered, slipping off the jacket he placed on you. "How many guns did you want?"

"A couple more but his markup price is horrible." he sneered.

The smirk on your face as the façade was back brought a sudden warmth into his groin and the ideas that run his mind worried him.

"I'll make sure you get all the big guns." you promised, pulling him back into a quick kiss before leaving him in the room to think of what just happened.

Well, whatever it was, he knew it will be a fun ride. Good to see someone dancing on the pole better than Wade for once too.

[bamfdaddio]

X-Men Abridged: 1979

The X-Men, those globe-trotting mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 117 - 128, X-Man Annual 3) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne, Terry Austin, George Perez

See Jean? Dark Phoenix is nothing: this is how you turn evil properly. (X-Men 123)

So, these things have been getting longer. Whoops.

Last year, plotlines tended to bleed over in one another, but this year is a lot more arc-based, jumping from location to location. This is basically X-Men: World Tour. After hitting Antarctica and the Savage Land, our team of merry mutants visits Japan, Canada, Egypt, Scotland and even a theme park! (And really, both Murder World and Disney Land are run by capitalist scumbags who pretend to be in it for the art, the only difference being that Arcade purposefully murders his guests.)

But, before we check in with the X-Men, we return to the Institute. See, there’s a mutual misunderstanding that wouldn’t be out of place in a Shakespearian tragedy: Jean and Charles think Beast and Jean were the only survivors of their fight with Magneto in Antarctica, while the rest of the X-Men believe they were the only survivors and Jean and Beast perished. Since the X-Men have been trapped in the Savage Land, nobody has been able to clear up the confusion.

With their grief driving a wedge between her and Charles, Jean leaves the mansion to deal with her feelings on her own. (She’ll end up on Muir Isle.)

This is adorable! And, if the whole "Empress of the known Universe "-thing blows up in her face, she can always become a barista at Starbucks. (X-Men 117)

Lilandra successfully persuades Xavier to leave Earth as her consort, now that there is nothing left for him. Xavier agrees, but not before having a flashback to the time he met another telepath named Amahl Farouk in Egypt. (The Shadow King isn’t relevant just yet, but he’ll become an important villain later on.)

The X-Men, meanwhile, cross a treacherous ocean on a raft and are picked up by a Japanese vessel. The Japanese do not allow them to call anyone, for some reason. Sure. When they finally dock in Japan - six weeks later - some arms dealer named Magnum Moses has put Agarishima is on fire. Like, literally an inferno of such big proportions that even Storm can’t do much.

What follows is an uninspired, slipshod adventure. For some reason, Misty Knight and Colleen Wing are there too, because the president needed American detectives to investigate Magnum Moses (?) and for some reason, Misty doesn’t know Jean thinks Scott is dead, nor does she mention she just saw Jean to Scott. AUGH. It will take almost a year for Scott to figure out Jean isn’t dead and it becomes increasingly more contrived. I get that Claremont needed to isolate Jean to make her susceptible to, er, a certain someone’s machinations, but holy fuck do I have to suspend my disbelief for all of this bullshit.

The only good things about this little arc are:

Sunfire is still a dick.

Wolverine meets Mariko Yashida, a Japanese girl who actually reciprocates his feelings, as opposed to Jean. I’ve mostly been ignoring his budding feelings for Jean, because I stopped finding love triangles interesting since I was 16 and watched The OC, so I can only applaud this development. Mariko brings out Wolverine’s soft side and it’s very adorable. Later on, she moves to NYC for some reason and they start dating.

There is something sweetly disarming about calling Wolverine ‘beautiful’. (X-Men 120)

Anyway, Magnum is holding Japan hostage: either they give him what he wants - I think that might be money, sorry, wasn't paying attention - or he sinks Japan by activating the fault lines and you guys, I am sooo bored. Unsurprisingly, the X-Men stop him and for once, it’s Banshee who gets to play the most important part.

It’s a good thing I was terrible at science, otherwise I might have to point out that earthquakes and sonic waves don’t work that way! I simply get to be entertained by little rascal Colossus, plugging his ears like a toddler, and Sunfire’s gritty determination to not be impressed by some silly screaming Irishman. (X-Men 119)

Banshee pays a steep price for the victory, however: his vocal chords end up damaged, leaving him effectively powerless for the remainder of the year.

Oh, and here’s interesting fact about the above spread: you may or may not know that Chris Claremont and John Byrne were notoriously terrible at working together; this issue became a particular sore point between the creators. See, Byrne wanted to run the above panel without the sound of ‘Kra-Koom’, believing the art was strong enough to convey the destruction. He was livid when the finished product ended up containing a sound effect after all. I get your frustration, man, but if you want a writer who knows how to say less with more, you should maybe not work with Claremont?

(One of the reasons Claremont liked being so verbose and descriptive in his scripts was because otherwise, the artist would fill in the blanks using his own imagination. It’s no wonder these two found it hard to work together.)

On the flight to the US of A, Colleen Wing hits on Cyclops. It has to be the jawline, right? It can’t be the personality. All of a sudden, a snow storm causes their plane to be diverted to Calgary. The cause of this delay is Alpha Flight, who want their Wolverine back!

When even the narration is all “and they think they’re equal to any team of superheroes”, you know you’re a bunch of C-listers. Ugh. (X-Men 121)

Vindicator, previously known as Captain Alpha. He changed his name after accidentally shooting Moira that one time, which is exactly the kind of hollow gesture this dude would make. Ugh. If you think his new-found remorse won’t let him threaten an airplane chock full of innocent passengers, you would be wrong.

Shaman, doctor by day, magic user by night. Him and his magical little pouch are to blame for the snow storm.

Sasquatch, Canada’s answer to the Hulk. (Hilariously, the theory on why he turns furry instead of green is because he’s closer to the Aurora Borealis and this somehow messes with the radiation?)

Snowbird, a young Arctic goddess. Precious. To be cherished. Barely there for this adventure, sadly.

Northstar, an arrogant, hot-headed speedster, the twin brother of

Aurora, a lover, not a fighter. Together, they have light powers.

Vindicator and Shaman hog most of the spotlight, so Alpha Flight continues to be the ever-loving worst. They’re really wasting Northstar’s first appearance here. Here's why they suck:

Alpha Flight accidentally smashes a plane and keeps threatening to drag Wolverine back to the military against his will.

They push the cover price of the comic to a whoppin’ 40 cents.

Johnny fuckin’ Hudson even provokes Storm into an attack in the middle of a mall.

Shaman lets his blizzard get out of control.

After Storm fixes this mistake for him, Northstar has the gall to knock her out, “because she’s obviously the strongest”. Like, you’re not wrong, but damn, y’all a bunch of unpleasant superheroes.

To stop the fight, Wolverine decides to turn himself in. The X-Men leave, but while flying back, they already make plans to save their teammate. Wolverine saves them the trouble, casually sauntering into the cockpit while claiming that pulling a fast one on them was the easiest thing ever.

To be fair, I understand why you’d want to put a country between yourself and those bozos.

And finally, the X-Men are home! Xavier left them the equivalent of a Post-It saying “off to space”, so they try to pick up their life as best they can. None of them contact Jean’s parents, make an attempt to visit her grave or happen to see Beast on TV and by now, my suspension of disbelief is stretched so far that it could replace Reed Richards on the Fantastic Four.

Ororo, meanwhile, makes a little pilgrimage to Harlem, to the building she grew up in before she moved to Cairo.

I have failed you as a recapper, because I have absolutely no idea how to parse this scene. (X-Men 122)

I think I’d have to write a full-on thesis before I could properly analyse this, because so many things intersect here: poverty and racism, the boundaries of a superhero comic, confronting a (shared) past. I can’t even fully gauge if this is a clumsy, privileged attempt at tackling a serious topic or rather, a valuable moment in a comic that continually tries to expand on its themes of racism, exclusion and prejudice. One thing I will note is:

Luke Cage delivers the sort of trite conclusion that they’re superheroes: they’re better at fighting Galactus than at fixing the human condition. Point is, he kind of has to believe that, doesn’t he? It’s the sort of blind spot we all permit ourselves: you can’t fix everything. None of us have the power to fix the earth, or humanity, or the economy, or whatever: if you’re lucky, you can maybe tend to your own garden and leave it better than you found it, ensuring some happiness for yourself and a few loved ones.

Chasing bank robbers is easy. Superhero stuff. But here? Who do you attack here? These kids, or the system that failed them? You can’t really punch a needle exchange into being. Maybe that’s the appeal of superhero comics: there’s a clear villain, which is so sorely lacking in our day to day lifes. There, we are ruled by systems that are rooted in inequality, patriarchy, gender...

But Storm isn’t like Luke Cage, not in this regard. Before she became an X-Man, she used her powers to help people that came to her. And the whole point of the X-Men - other than beating up villains in colorful spandex - is that they want to change the system. They want to fix things, they want to fix a dark part of human nature, the part that hates which we fear.

Storm doesn’t really respond to Luke Cage here, but we know she’ll keep fighting the good fight, despite insurmountable odds. You can’t fix mankind, I don’t think, but you can sure as hell try.

*coughs*

Anyway!

Black Tom and Juggernaut hire Arcade… to kill the X-Men! I’m not sure why? I thought these two usually attempted to solve things on their own and Arcade’s fee is, like, a million bucks, so…? Maybe Black Tom asked his boyfriend what he wanted for his birthday and Juggernaut clenched his fists and said “I WANT THE X-MEN DEAD” and things escalated from there.

So, Arcade is a subtle villain. While Scott and Colleen Wing are on a date, this happens:

I can’t decide which is funnier: kidnapping people by sneaking up on them with A GARBAGE TRUCK or the fact that Spider-Man deduces this is Arcade’s doing by the noise alone. (X-Men 123)

Spider-Man doesn’t really figure into the rest of the plot, by the way.

Arcade successfully kidnaps all of the X-Men (and their dates: Colleen, Amanda and Betsy). Who is this Arcade? Well, he is an assassin who lets his victims run through a gauntlet of some sort, testing them with potentially deadly results in his Murderworld. He’s like a discount-combo of Saw and the Joker, except a lot less competent and a lot more spoiled rich kid. He barely kills anyone, ever, until maaaybe Avengers Arena, some forty years later.

Arcade veers heavily to the silly side of the silly-to-sinister scale, but he at least commits to a theme. Bonus is that trapping your heroes in a bunch of ricocheting balls fubars them ever-so beautifully. (X-Men 123)

This whole adventure is very silly and has very little bearing on the overarching plot, but it’s a fun enough romp: Cyclops nearly gets squashed by a hydraulic press, Nightcrawler gets attacked by bumper cars with chain saws attached to them, stuff like that. The absolute best part is when Colossus is hypnotized by an illusion of the KGB and becomes THE PROLETARIAN.

His insignia is Vladimir Lenin, y’all.

After various shenanigans, everybody is freed from their respective booby traps, everyone except Colossus. See, Piotr has been feeling down, torn between the exciting new loyalty to the X-Men and the more dutiful loyalty to his family and his motherland. (Also, he’s been feeling like a failure because he came up short a couple a times, aw.) Those feelings are exactly what Arcade has been abusing, but when Colossus comes in for the kill, Storm gives the most heartfelt plea:

I’m not crying, you’re crying. (X-Men 124)

Arcade’s all: “Eh, can’t win ‘em all” and yeets the X-Men out of Murderworld. The story has barely any other repercussions, except we stop seeing Colleen Wing and Betsy (Piotr’s date) after this. To be fair, being kidnapped by a super villain is a good reason to stop seeing someone.

Even more inconsequential is the adventure in the Annual. The only important thing to glean from there is that, when Thor is unavailable, Storm is a suitable substitution. Couldn’t agree more.

The quality of the comic has been steadily ascending throughout the year and ends on a supremely high note: Proteus. Because I think it might be Claremont’s best work so far, I’ll be dedicating a full post to that. (Man, that 10-picture-limit is a real bummer, huh?)

Ugliest Costume: I don’t care, I just want someone to cosplay the Proletarian.

Best new character: There’s actually a few options - Snowbird, Northstar, Proteus - but both Jean-Paul and Narya don’t really show their best sides this year, so I’m going in a different direction. My pick is the Shadow King. He is a very effective foil to Xavier, perhaps even moreso than Magneto. I know I rag on Xavier and his cavalier attitude to bending others to his will a lot, but imagine if you had his powers: wouldn’t you just make people do whatever you want? Just, like, all the time? The Shadow King is an effective reminder of what Charles would have been like, had he been immoral. (Well, more immoral.)

No matter how cool your psychic battle may be, this is what it looks like to the rest of the world. (X-Men 117)

Turns evil: Colossus, for the first time!

What to read: 117, 125 - 129.

[thehangeddemon]

"Just keep provin' my point, Zav." Mason began gathering their bags, as many as he could manage with free fingers.

"To be continued," he muttered.

“To quote Catch-22, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you. And we have bloody good reason to be paranoid.”

Xavier nodded at Abel as he shrugged on his coat. “Very well, thank you.”

Abel grabbed whatever Mason couldn’t and then looped his arm around his master’s. “So! Rohan is scrambling to get your usual rental in Mayfair if you want it or we can go to a hotel. Dealer’s choice.”

Xavier looked to his brother for his opinion.

[sabrinariverdalefan]

I’ve got my eye on you

Xavier Thorp / Original Character

“I’m Xavier by the way.” The tall lanky boy released her arm and took a step back. He didn’t want to seem to intimidating to the girl, but she seemed anything but.

“Elizabeth…but you already knew that.” She said with an arch of an eyebrow “Let me guess you overheard me.”

Xavier looked down at the ground “I didn’t mean to I was just…” What was he even wanting to say to her? “You weren’t joking about that being an addicts anonymous meeting were you?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at Xavier with what he thought was pity perhaps? “No. I’m an addict. Just got back from rehab after overdosing a while back…”

For some reason the only drugs that he thought she was doing was pot, but who overdoses from weed? “What…erm…did you overdose on?” He asked feeling immediately that this was a lot more serious than he had expected.

“Fuck…what don’t i take. I was on oxy, xany bars, hydros…Adderall.” Just speaking about it gave her the urge to reach into her pocket to grab her stash, afraid that it would suddenly disappear. “…Fentanyl…”

“Jesus…” Xavier said as he ran his hand through his drenched locks. She looked so lost to him and it tugged at something in his heart - what kind of life was she living to feel the need to get that high.

“Yeah…I kind of was in a coma for six days.” The blonde answered awkwardly as she played with the baggy of pills in her pocket.

The urge to just grab her and wrap his arms around her was so overwhelming; he didn’t want to ruin this moment with her by being affectionate. They’d have plenty of time to do all of that in the future. “Look…” Xavier began after taking a moment to let her words sink in “I know you don’t know me, but if you need someone to talk to…”

Elizabeth gave the lanky boy a sad smile. “Thanks Xavier…I’ll keep that in mind.” She replied feeling slightly awkward when she handed her phone over for him to put his number in.

Xavier loved hearing his name coming from her lips. It sent this spark through him that he couldn’t explain. He typed in his number and saved the contact as ‘Xavi’, a nickname those close to him used. Elizabeth in turn put her number in his phone with a nickname not too many people were allowed to use - Lilabet.

Elizabeth looked at the time on her phone before she returned it to her pocket. “I gotta get going. It was nice seeing you again and learning your name?”

He watched as she disappeared from sight unable to take his eyes off her until he could no longer see her. “Don’t worry Lilabet I’m here to save YOU.”

The next time he saw her was no accident.

Unknown to Elizabeth he turned on her location sharing when he added his number to her phone. Not to be weird but to be aware of where she was. There was nothing wrong with that certainly. It was only natural that he wanted to be worried; she had said so herself that she was an addict. She would see how much she could rely on him. How he could truly care for her. Elizabeth was everything he wanted. ‘My eyes are only on you.’

Xavier often checked the location in the days that followed and it was typical. From school, to the Weathervane and a couple houses that he decided had to be hers and her dealers, she didn’t go about much. This night however, he tracked her to a new house and immediately he found himself sitting up in his bed. Earlier when he was volunteering at the cafe he had heard the townie kids talking about a big party happening that night - of course she would be there.

Before he could control his urges he was dressed and waking up Ajax who even though annoyed at first was completely fine going to a party. It had started out with just the two of them but then they ran into Wednesday who for some reason his friend invited her to tag along. Even though the Addams girl initially seemed uninterested, she followed the two boys into town.

Following the girls shared location they ended up at a party unlike what they have at Nevermore. The place was crawling with drunken normie teens. Ajax didn’t hesitate when they walked through the door. Wednesday upon entering the house looked around in distaste. definitely not amused by what she considered idiotic behavior. Xavier couldn’t care less as they made their way through the crowd - no one seemed to notice that they didn’t belong. The only exception was his female counterpart who stuck out like a sore thumb with her black clothing and death stare. His mind was elsewhere as he searched the room for Elizabeth.

There sitting on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table was the object of his obsession. A powder substance lined in near little rows on a small mirror as the blonde held a rolled up dollar bill in her hand. Eyes heavily lidded and a dazed look upon her face, Xavier could immediately tell that the girl was doped behind comprehension and there she was snorting line after like of whatever the powder was in front of her.

Leaning back against the couch after the last line was gone, Elizabeth could feel her heartbeat get slower and slower. shit - she hated it when that happened. Is she having a heart attack? Is this it? With eyes closed and a look of peace on her face, she waited for a moment and before she took that same rolled up dollar to snort an upper to keep herself out of the ground. Once she came back to herself she let out a laugh as she grabbed her bottle of Bud Lite and chugged it down not even noticing the door lanky boy watching her from across the room. Unsteadily she gets up to take herself to the bathroom.

‘Perfect’ Xavier thought as he separated from Ajax and Wednesday, following the girl down the hall to see where she goes.