#I knew since day one Xavier will be my boy and he did not disappoint | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

helloslytherinstuff · 1 year

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And They Were Roommates

TRIGGER WARNING: CONTAINS SELF-HARM

Xavier Thorpe was many things. He was an artist a friend and to her, the most annoying person to ever exist. And newest of all, her roommate.

The day they found out should have been the worst in their lives. They hated each other after all. Right?

Months have passed since Y/N Addams crossed the threshold of Nevermore alongside her cousin Wednesday. The first weeks at the academy were spent dealing with the Hyde and their subsequent stand-off against Crackstone. Not that she did much. It was Wednesday’s work really. But she liked to think she helped at least a little bit.

Yet, despite everything, she liked attending Nevermore, and unlike her cousin, she was able to show it. She liked her new friends, and she liked not feeling like a complete outcast. Still, even despite that no one except her cousin and Enid knew about her power.

Ands so, when the next term started, she was happy to return.

The day had been perfect. The morning was gloomy, and fog was rolling underneath the wheels of the family carriage-like car.

“Oh girls, are you happy to return?” Morticia asked her daughter and niece.

“I am not feeling dreadful. Mother.”

“Wednesday is just delighted to see Enid again,” Y/N snickered, feeling a wave of irritation and embarrassment roll of her cousin. She gave her a wide grin.

“Just like you cannot wait to see Xavier Thorpe again,” Wednesday retorted, and the girl’s grin faltered.

“Look at that Tish! Young love.”

Both girls turned to Gomez giving him identical glares, as Thing was shaking with laughter. The girls exchanged a look, instead opting to spend the rest of the ride in silence.

…

She received invitation to the new headmaster’s office right after her arrival to Nevermore. Y/N groaned internally as she climbed the stairs, having left her friends behind. Knocking on the door, she quickly entered the office, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw him. The tall form of Xavier Thorpe was sitting right next to the only open chair in the room.

She saw him roll his eyes as he looked back at the new headmaster, who was a young woman with blonde hair and green eyes. she wondered what her powers were.

“You can’t be serious Ms Goodwill!” the boy hollered, and Y/N shot him a glare.

“Be serious about what?” she asked ignoring the feeling of irritation seething from him.

“Miss Addams, I am going to make this explanation quick. We have a shortage of rooms, and since neither of you has a roommate, you will be living together this year.

The girl’s eyes grew wide before she broke out into a laughing fit.

“Oh, you are being serious?”

“I told you she is a moron!”

“Hey! I happen to have an IQ of…”

Xavier threw a pen at her, hitting her square in the face.

“Oh no, you did not just…”

“Miss Addams stop with these antics. Mr Thorpe, please take Miss Addams to your room. Her things have already been moved there.”

“My ancestors must be rolling over in their graves. This is bound to go wrong,” she muttered, following Xavier to their new room.

…

“Well, this is it Addams,” he gestured to the half empty room. His side was decorated with many, many pictures, all of them his work. She was sure that if she wanted, she would find pictures of her cousin. Her very, very gay cousin.

Nothing has changed since the time she and Wednesday had snooped in there.

Instead, she turned back to Xavier, looking him up and down before staring right into his eyes.

“Come on, Thorpe, cannot we at least be on first name basis?” she asked grabbing her journal and a pen, needing to vent.

“What even is your name?” he asked, causing the girl to feel a pang in her chest, a hurt expression momentarily crossing her face.

Xavier must have noticed as his eyes widened and he started again, “No, I know it’s N/N.”

“N/N?” she asked, startled at the use of that form of her name.

“Well Y/N. I am not that big of a douche.”

“Good to know,” she said dryly. “You are very disappointed, aren’t you?”

“Why?” he asked looking puzzled.

“You got put with the wrong Addams cousin.”

“Oh, come on, I know she is gay,” he grinned.

The girl’s eyes widened. “How do you know?”

“The tension between her and Enid can be cut with a knife.”

Y/N let out a laugh. One of those rare genuine ones, that reached her eyes. it made the boy smile too.

“Well, I am still sorry for having to share a room with me. I know you are disappointed.”

“How would you know that?” he knitted his brows together.

“Well, I assume you would find out anyway. I am an empath,” she looked him straight in the eye, waiting for his reaction.

“An Addams family empath?”

“Ironic, right?”

They locked their eyes, looking at each other for a while, before bursting out laughing. She noted that she did not mind the sound of his laughter.

“Well, Y/N, you might not be such a horrid roommate as I thought.”

…

Weeks have passed since the term began, and the two seemed to finally be getting along. They fell into routine. While he drew, she journaled. While he slept, she was worried about his nightmares. While she studied, he made butterflies sit on her nose making her sneeze.

“How’s your situation with Xavier going?” Enid asked her friend while brushing Wednesday’s, who was her new girlfriend, hair.

“Well, we do not fight anymore s that might be an improvement,” she mumbled, a pink tint creeping to her cheeks.

“You like him,” Wednesday said piercing her cousin with a knowing look.

“I am afraid so,” the girl muttered shifting her gaze down, as the blonde girl let out an excited squeal. Yet, they did not get a chance to discuss anything as a loud banging on the door interrupted them.

She felt him before she saw him, his anger prominent as his voice carried in.

“Addams open up!”

“I am not emotionless. I crave physical touch and love cuddli…”

The banging stopped momentarily; the silence being interrupted only by Enid’s giggle.

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

Y/N opened the door, not realizing how close to the door he was standing. Her breath hitched in her throat.

“Hi,” she breathed out, hearing a groan from Wednesday.

“Y/N where is my sketchbook?”

The girl’s brows knitted together as she glanced back at Enid and Wednesday.

“Uhm, how am I supposed to know that?”

“You are the only one who lives in my room,” the boy jabbed his finger at her.

“Our room,” she muttered.

“I do not believe my cousin has taken it. She will gladly help you find it though.”

“Oh, and how am I supposed to do that?”

“I don’t know, maybe return it?” he barked at her.

“She will help you, right Y/N?” said Enid, pushing her out of the door. The girl stumbled as the door closed behind her, hitting Xavier’s chest, and felt heat rush to her face as he wrapped his arm around her waist, steadying her up.

Now up close, she could feel him seething, his anger causing him distress. And so, she laid her hand on his chest, taking in a deep breath, sending a wave of calm over him. The change was immediate. His shoulders relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked down at her.

“What… what did you just do?”

“Well, I tried to calm you down a bit,” she looked down avoiding his eyes.

Xavier took a step back, his hand leaving her waist, leaving her feeling cold. She watched his gaze harden.

��“You have been manipulating me,” he accused her. “After Bianca I thought…”

“What? No!”

“You must have. That is why my feelings… why they have changed. It is all your fault. You made me feel this way.”

“No Xavier I did not. What are you even talking about?” the girl tried to defend herself.

“Forget about the sketchbook, I will find it myself. Just… never speak to me again.”

Xavier left her standing right in front of Wednesday’s room, as tears welled in her eyes. she knew she had to return to her room, being sure Xavier had gone to his shed.

…

She had been pacing their room for hours, looking for his sketchbook. It did not take her long; she had realised she really did have it. Y/N must have mistaken it for her journal.

Having done what, she was supposed to do, she looked at the clock. It had been an hour after curfew and Xavier still had not returned. He must have been sleeping in his shed. It left her feeling numb but at the verge of tears at the same time. She had hurt him. She had to punish herself.

After another half an hour had passed before she decided he will not be coming back. And so, she ruffled through her nightstand, pulling out the sharp razor head before sitting on her bed.

She put the razor to her forearm, making small shallow cuts as tears began clouding her vision. She was very particular about cutting, deep enough to hurt, shallow enough not to draw blood. That way it did not count. It was not self-harm if there was no blood drawn. She counted to thirteen between each and every cut, making herself feel the full extent of the pain.

Her shoulders shook with sobs as her vision became completely blurry, her nose running. The razor was discarded on her nightstand when she heard the door open. She quickly tried to pull her sleeves down, wiping her tears away.

“What were you doing Y/N?” came Xavier’s voice from the direction of the door.

“No… nothing,” her voice came out shaky.

“Hand it over,” he extended his hand out.

“Hand what over?”

“Don’t act dumb. Give me the razor,” he said gently, as a wave of unfamiliar feeling washed over him, causing her to knit her brows as she handed the sharp object over.

“Is it the only one you have?”

She nodded her head, avoiding his gaze.

Xavier disappeared into the bathroom, flushing the razor down the toilet, grabbing a first aid kit. Silently, he took her hands in his, gently rolling her sleeves up. It took him mere minutes to wrap her arms in fresh gauze before he stalked over to her dresser, pulling out a pair of pyjamas.

“Go get changed.”

And she did, scared of what he would say, knowing that night was not over yet. When she walked out of the bathroom, she saw him sitting on his bed, changed into a pyjama of his own, his sketchbook in hand.

“I am sorry. I mistook it for my journal.”

“It’s fine. Come over here N/N,” he patted the place next to him as he lied down, pulling the covers of to let her slip in.

She lied down next to him, awkwardly looking around, until she felt his arms around her waist, as he pulled her to rest against his chest. Her heart was beating so fast she was scared he could feel it.

And he could. Her heartbeat against his chest was the only thing keeping him sane at that moment. Xavier looked down at the girl, holding her tighter.

“First thing next morning, we are getting you into therapy. Second thing, you will never leave my sight again, understood.”

“Mhm,” she said sleepily, exhausted from the events of that day, nestling into the boy’s chest, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck.

“Good night, Love,” he whispered into her hair, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

#xavier thrope imagine #xavier x reader #xavier thrope fanfic #angst #fluff #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader

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mxvanrichten · 1 year

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Shut up and dance with me: chapter one

(non-canon Curse of Strahd fluff. Written before we knew who Rictavio actually was.)

Silas Xavier is my pc in our campaign. Draz and Brandy are the other two pc's.

Click here to read on AO3:

(I'm not looking for feedback or unsolicited advice, it's just for fun)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/47068813/chapters/118582954

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‼️‼️NSFW WARNING‼️‼️

‼️Full consenual, nothing triggering I can think of‼️

MLM relationship

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It’s the day of the Festival of the Blazing Sun. We have most of the day to ourselves until we’re to attend the event that Silas and his friends are still unsure of what to expect.

Silas, Draz and Brandy make their way to the downstairs of the Blue Water Inn. Urwin and Danika already hard at work on breakfasts and The Watchter brothers already hard at work on getting way too wasted. The 3 adventurers sit down for the morning and eat the delicious food that’s been prepared for them. Silas has a glass of wine with his meal to relieve the slight hangover from the night before. Him and his two friends had spent the previous night in their room drinking and talking about an odd interaction Silas had just had with Rictavio.

Rictavio has always seemed like a very charming, charismatic gentleman, but last night he was a little more serious and almost curt. Silas was unsure of how to feel and shared his conversation with the other two.

This morning Rictavio seems to be missing from the tavern area. “Has Rictavio come down to eat yet, this morning?” Silas asks the Martikov couple as he finishes up his meal.

Danika responds that he hasn’t seem him since yesterday morning.

Silas remembering last night that Rictavio said he would come down and get food once he was done with his work: “Can you make a plate for me to take him. He must still be wrapped up in his work. Give him a little extra, he can’t just starve himself.”

Silas looks to Brandy and Draz: “I’ll be back. Going to check on our new friend and make sure he eats.”

Brandy gives Silas a concerned look, after the conversation they had previously. “I will message you if anything happens. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be back down shortly.”

The Half-Elf heads upstairs and knocks on Rictavio’s door. “Room Service!” He says in a sing-song tone.

*silence*

“Hello! I brought you some food. You know the stuff you need to consume to live!”

*rustling and moving of papers and items*

“Ugh. One moment!” Rictavio says in a tired, but slightly annoyed tone.

After a couple moments the door opens and the handsome man stands in the doorway with a smile on his face. He suddenly seems to be back to his usual self.

“Silas! I was just on my way down for breakfast! You didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

Silas sighs and says “You didn’t eat last night after you said you would. I wanted to make sure you did this morning. You are allowed to stop working long enough to take care of yourself , you know?” He smiles at Rictavio and takes in his perfect face and wonders what it would be like to kiss those lips.

“I’ll come down and join you all. Sorry to cause any alarm. I’ve just been extremely busy.”

Silas responds, almost cutting him off, “Oh! I mean we can stay up here. You could come to my room if you want to get out of yours for a bit. The Watchter boys are already being a bit rowdy so maybe some relaxation with your breakfast would perhaps be more enjoyable? “

Rictavio hesitates but obliges the Half-Elf’s request as they head to the large room the 3 friends had been sharing to keep safe.

“Welcome to our humble abode!” Silas states in a slightly sarcastic manner. “Feel free to sit wherever you’d like. The bed is comfortable or the chair in the corner is as well.” To Silas’ slight disappointment the gentleman sits in the chair.

Silas pulls out a bottle of wine, and a tankard he’d yet to take back downstairs. “We had some leftover from last night. Would you like some? I know it’s morning, but grapes are a breakfast food, right?” Silas gives Rictavio a slight wink. Rictavio exclaims “You don’t have to ask me twice! Pour up friend.” Silas takes a sip and hands the tankard to his new friend. “Sorry we only have one receptacle. Hope you don’t mind swapping a little spit between pals.” Silas, realizing what he’s said, “I mean, umm, you kno- ha sorry! Anyways drink up! It’s festival day, we’ve got to drink to enjoy that I’m sure!” Silas laughs, waiting, hoping Rictavio laughs too. “Ha! Most certainly true!” Rictavio laughs and says.

“Is there anything else I can get you or do for you? You’ve been working so hard it seems and I wouldn’t want you to see such a lovely person wear themselves down.”

Rictavio responds “I- I’ve just been incredibly busy and I need to get this done. I don’t have time to worry about such frivolous things as myself. He gets a serious face for a moment and then perks up suddenly “but enough about me! Silas what are your opinions on everything going on here?”

Silas gives Rictavio a very straightforward look and says, “Rictavio if I’m being completely honest with you, I didn’t ask for your company to speak about work or this dreadful place we’re in. I wanted to spend time with you and take care of your, personal, needs. So I ask again, what do you need, sir?”

Silas walks around to the back of the chair Rictavio is sitting in and gently places a hand on each shoulder and begins to squeeze and massage his tense muscles. Rictavio tenses up a bit, so Silas stops. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll stop. I apologize for making you uncomfortable.” Rictavio responds “Oh gosh! No, I’ve-I’ve just umm never… no, it’s ok you may continue, Silas.” Silas places his hands back on the gentleman’s broad, but less tense shoulders and thinks to himself “He’s never what? I wonder what he was going say.” After a couple minutes massaging his shoulders, Silas begins to run his hands down his chest. He leans down and whispers to Rictavio “Are you still ok with this? If you ever feel uncomfortable or don’t want to continue please say. I’m here to take care of you.” Rictavio nods and quickly says “Yes. Please.” Something about the way he says Please, almost whimpering, sends a chill down Silas’ spine. He wants this man so bad. The blood flows to his manhood and he thinks about how he’d honestly like to throw Rictavio to his knees and feel himself inside him.

But alas, Silas is here to take care of Rictavio’s needs first while also feeding his own carnal needs.

Silas walks around to the front of the chair his beautiful acquaintance is sitting in. He stands in front of him and places his hand on his chin and directs Rictavio to look him in the eyes. “When’s the last time someone reminded you how striking you are?” Rictavio almost gets a sad face for a moment “I couldn’t tell you the last time, but never from a man.” The Half-Elf, surprised, asks “Rictavio have you ever, umm, BEEN with a man?” The man shakes his head. “Well no. To be honest it never really occurred to me before. But, *he looks Silas up and down* I have to say given this opportunity I’m not against it.” They both smile flirtatiously. Silas can’t help himself, in that moment he leans down to kiss Rictavio, while still leading the mans chin with his hand. Their tongues begin to intertwine and their soft lips collide and fit together so perfectly.

Silas pulls away, stands up straight and looks at Rictavio with a demanding, but still soft demeanor. “ Stand up and undress for me, please. Now.” Rictavio follows his instructions and begins to unbuckle his pants. He disrobes until he stands there fully nude and vulnerable in front of Silas. The cleric is used to taking care of others, but hadn’t been able to take care of anyone in this manner in far too long.

The Half-Elf lowers himself, kneeling in front of Rictavio. He pulls his hair up into a messy, high ponytail. He places his hands on Rictavio’s hips, takes his length into his hand and begins stroking while looking up, making direct eye contact with Rictavio. “You still ok?” He nods to Silas, almost blushing, if all the blood hadn’t rushed to his cock. “Good.” Silas says as he envelops the length of his sex with his wet lips and begins to suck on him. Rictavio let’s out a deep breath and a soft “Sil-“ and stops himself, feeling embarrassed. Silas notices and craves hearing his name moaned by that beautiful man. He pulls the man from deep in his throat and stimulates the head of his manhood with his tongue. Flicking his tongue against the tip and tasting the salty drops of precum. Rictavio’s cock is throbbing. Silas teases him and stops licking. Looking up at him to see his reaction. Rictavio whimpers “Please.”

“Oh, did you not want me to stop? You have to let me know you’re enjoying yourself, otherwise I’ll have to stop.” Silas says slyly. After watching the man above him plead with his eyes to be pleasured, he obliges by taking him in his mouth once more and slowly sucking and flicking his tongue against his flesh. Rictavio reaches out and grabs the back of Silas’ head, entangling his fingers into his long, thick black and grey hair. He pushes Silas’ head into his groin, bringing his length as far back into his throat as Silas can take. The Half-Elf’s eyes tear up from almost gagging, but he stops himself and lets Rictavio fill his throat. His cock twitches and he let’s out a moan filled with pleasure surrounding the words “Oh, fuck, Silas I’m going to cum. I need to, please let me cum.” “Did he think he couldn’t cum until I let him? Does he want me to control him?” Silas ponders to himself. He brings his hands from Rictavio’s hips, down to his thighs. God those thighs. He could bite into them, maybe he will. The thoughts are interrupted by Rictavio whining “PLEASE SILAS LET ME CUM!” He pulls the man from his drooling mouth and gives permission for him to climax. “Where would you like to finish?” The man thumbs at the Half-Elf’s bottom lip and Silas smiles and says “gladly.” Silas opens his mouth once more to take Rictavio in as his sex spasms and ejaculates onto Silas' tongue. He swallows most of the load leaving some in his mouth. He pulls the man from his mouth, sticking out his tongue showing off the viscous liquid his pleasure had released. He then swallowed the rest, wiping saliva and a bit of spilled seed from his lips.

Silas stands up, both men’s chests heaving and Rictavio’s gleaming with sweat. The Half-Elf presses a kiss into Rictavio’s perfect lips and moves his mouth to nibble and lick on his ears and neck. His skin is so sweet and his natural scent is intoxicating. He needs to be inside him. He begins to unbutton his shirt. Rictavio paws at Silas’ pants, he wants him stripped down just like him. He doesn’t know what to expect next, but he knows whatever it is he wants it from the Half-Elf.

Just as Silas gets his shirt off and just as Rictavio’s hands had began to peel off his trousers, a pair of familiar voices enter the hallway outside.

“He was supposed to be bringing food up to Rictavio, but neither of them are in his room.” He hears the voice of Brandy say, with a worried tone. Silas and Rictavio freeze. Silas casts message to her just as the door knob starts to turn “DON’T OPEN THE DOOR!! I’M FINE I’LL DOWN IN JUST A MOMENT!”

“Sounds like you’re needed elsewhere.” – Rictavio says with a sadness on his face. “Don’t worry, sweet man, we can pick this back up later. It will only make my yearning for you stronger.” Silas says, while both men quickly re-dress and straighten themselves up.

The gentleman head downstairs, one slightly ahead of the other as to not draw suspicion.

Silas exclaims: “Look who I found on the way back down!” and gestures to Rictavio. “He’s finally decided to join us!”

Draz and Brandy eye the men, Brandy notices Silas’ messy ponytail and Rictavio’s unzipped pants. Draz starts to say “but we were just up there and…” Brandy cuts him off, squinting her eyes at Silas and quickly says, “Oh. How great! Glad you could join us.” And elbows Draz as he tries to talk again.

The 4 of them begin casually conversing while Silas’ tries to slow his heart rate as he thinks about the things he’s going to do to Rictavio the next time they’re alone.

CHAPTER END.

#curse of strahd #Rictavio #rudolph van richten #ao3

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thehangeddemon · 3 years

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Waiting for a Tuesday || Self Para || September 14, 2021

☠ WARNING ☠

This work contains graphic descriptions of violence, gore, and torture

Reader discretion is advised

“More tea, sir?”

Xavier glanced up from his newspaper and gave the waiter a pleasant smile. He shook his head. “I’m fine, John, thank you. You can bring me the check as soon as y—”

“Actually, John. Why don’t you go ahead and bring us another pot of tea? Anything but English breakfast,” he added with a chuckle that almost sounded condescending. “I don’t share my son’s fondness for it.”

The waiter watched as a man, who had seemed to appear out of nowhere and was dressed head to toe in black, invited himself to sit opposite Mr. Rossmara. He’d said ‘son’, but he didn’t really look old enough to have a son Mr. Rossmara’s age. He didn’t really resemble him either but that seemed less strange somehow.

What was strange was the way Mr. Rossmara was looking at the man across from him. He looked…stunned, like he’d seen a ghost or something. But beneath the surprise was an indiscernible emotion on Mr. Rossmara’s face that John thought looked just a little like fear.

At the stranger’s expectant look, John collected himself and cleared his throat, addressing Mr. Rossmara. “…Sir…?”

Xavier seemed to collect himself as well, though far more subtly. He folded up his newspaper and put the pleasant smile back on his face, determined to make it seem like nothing was wrong. Only someone who looked very closely would see how forced the smile was, or how measured his movements were.

“Yes, of course. Does earl grey meet with your approval?”

The man smiled like the proverbial cat who ate the canary. “It does.”

“Very well. A pot of earl grey then, John.”

The waiter nodded. “Right away, sir.”

Xavier waited until John was well out of earshot before he spoke again. “Hello, Father. I didn’t expect you.”

Zagan let out another of those condescending laughs that set Xavier’s teeth on edge and dragged him right back to all his memories of Hell. “No, I’m quite certain you did not.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“My dear boy, it was hardly a mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes. For as long as you’ve had your shipping business, you’ve come to San Francisco every Tuesday without fail to check in. And without fail, you finish your work just before teatime. By your own admission, this hotel has the best afternoon tea in the city. All I had to do was remember the name of the hotel and wait for a Tuesday.”

Zagan helped himself to one of the cucumber sandwiches that remained on the tray. “You’ve become predictable in your old age, my boy.”

Xavier had to fight to keep from shifting in his seat. Not any-bloody-more. He’d be changing that particular habit immediately. It didn’t suit him at all for someone outside his household to have such intimate knowledge of his movements, especially if that someone was his father. Such information was dangerous in the hands of a man like Zagan. It didn’t matter if it was only the day and location of a standing reservation for tea and cake, Xavier knew from experience that the less his father knew, the better.

Which was largely why he didn’t take any great pains to see him. Unless, of course, he was forced to.

“I see,” Xavier said, settling for an amused smile since a laugh was impossible. “I suppose I am becoming a bit predictable. Anyhow, it’s nice to see you, Father. Have you been well?”

“Well enough.” Zagan was watching him carefully, studying every nuance in his expression, listening to the tone and inflection of every word. Becoming familiar with anything that had changed since the last time he’d seen his demonic progeny.

Thankfully Xavier didn’t have to endure it for very long. John soon returned with their tea, giving him a reprieve from paternal scrutiny as it was poured. It was the only thing that would for the next little while.

This time it was Zagan who waited until they were alone again before he spoke. “So. Tell me. How is that shipping business of yours doing? And your myriad other ventures?”

The next hour or so was spent in what one could call easy conversation. They spoke of Xavier’s businesses, the sights he’d seen, the things he’d collected, the weather, the state of the world. Perfectly light, perfectly casual. At least from an outsider’s perspective.

From Xavier’s point of view things were far more fraught. Everything he said had to be carefully weighed, and there was a desperately thin line between revealing too much and appearing withholding, between looking at ease and projecting discomfort.

Having a conversation with his father hadn’t always been this difficult. In fact, just a few years ago Xavier would have been—and had been—completely comfortable not only talking to Zagan but spending entire days in his company. He’d even sought him out once or twice. But then, Xavier had had far less to lose a few years ago. He hadn’t had a child, a fiancé, staff that depended on him, friends he cared for.

He had all those things now. He had more than he’d allowed himself to have in fifty years, and the memory of how things had gone then still lived all too vividly in his mind.

Getting back to a point of comfort with Zagan after that hadn’t been easy, but he’d done it. There hadn’t been a choice. It was either swallow his pain, grief, and desire for vengeance and make nice, or tempt his father into carrying out his threats.

Sitting here now, Xavier felt much the same as he had then; trapped, resentful, and desperate to get away.

He had no illusions of being able to do that any time soon, however, even when his father finally asked for the check. After such a long absence, Zagan was sure to take up as much of his time as possible.

His suspicions were confirmed almost immediately.

“Come,” said Zagan, getting to his feet. “Let’s take a walk.”

Xavier remained at the table while his father stepped outside, indulging himself with a long, weary sigh the moment it felt safe to do so. It had only been an hour and he was ready for another five-year interlude in their relationship.

What had brought Zagan up from Hell anyway? Surely this visit hadn’t only been for tea and a walk with him. His father hated humans, hated looking at them and being amongst them. There had to be another reason and no doubt it was something Xavier really didn’t want the know the details of.

“Probably scouting his next project child,” Xavier muttered to himself as he pulled his card from his wallet.

Bill settled, he stepped out into the late summer evening and breathed deeply. There was a chill in the air that said autumn was well and truly on its way. Soon the days would grow shorter and the nights longer. His collection of coats would emerge from storage. Every hearth in the manor would roar to life with cheerful, welcoming fires.

He sighed again, longing for the comfort of home as he looked for Zagan among the crowd of people in front of the hotel. That expression of disdain was easy to spot.

“Where shall we go?” Xavier asked, approaching him.

“I don’t know how you can stand it.” His father’s tone all but dripped disgust. “Being here day in and day out among these…creatures and the stench of their cities. It’s revolting.”

“I’d rather smog than brimstone.”

“I think I prefer brimstone.”

Right. That nipped the notion of walking on the street squarely in the bud. If only that were enough to dissuade his father, but alas.

Fortunately, there was a park nearby.

Zagan didn’t say a single word as they made their way there, clearly preferring to stew in his distaste until they were well clear of anyone who might catch a snippet of their conversation. Of course, he hadn’t been nearly so averse to it back at the hotel.

Xavier would just chalk that up to the difference between a well-appointed dining room and a crowded street.

His father’s demeanor seemed marginally more pleasant as they entered the park. It wouldn’t be empty for a good while yet, but it was an improvement from the street. Hopefully it wouldn’t be enough of one to tempt him to stay much longer.

A few long minutes of not-quite-companionable silence passed before Zagan saw fit to fall into conversation again. The additional privacy meant they could discuss things that were far more relevant to his father’s interests than the weather or the goings on at a shipping company. Namely, any magic Xavier had learned, magical artifacts Xavier had acquired, and any kills Xavier had made.

The latter would perhaps prove to be a bit of a disappointment. Not only did Xavier kill less frequently these days, his choice of quarry had changed. The people that he’d once hunted were those he found interesting or amusing or intriguingly intelligent; only on the very rare occasion did he hunt someone who truly deserved it.

That was no longer the case. Lately when Xavier hunted it was only people who truly deserved it. He went for rapists and abusers. He went for people who hurt children, including and especially priests. There was immense satisfaction in knowing exactly where those people were going and what awaited them when they arrived, and even more in describing it in vivid, excruciating detail as they bled to death among the debris of a forest floor.

Hell was a far greater torment than anything he could visit upon them, and he was more than happy to send them on their way.

Zagan let out a loud, derisive laugh at that. “Are you indeed?” The old demon laughed again, putting Xavier’s back up and setting his teeth on edge. “My dear boy, you have been away from Hell too long. Who would’ve imagined? My son, the divine hand of justice for ne’er-do-well priests the world over. Never mind predictable; you’ve grown positively moral in your old age.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Xavier said softly, fighting to unclench his jaw.

His father gave him an amused look. “No?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve merely…unearthed an intolerance I didn’t give sufficient regard to before.”

“Have you? Well.” Zagan chuckled and adjusted his sleeve, looking positively chuffed in a way that both infuriated and unsettled. “You never did like priests. Who would, having had your childhood? I suppose that particular aspect of your personality was bound to rear its head again eventually. Perhaps…it’s entirely appropriate that it should do so now.”

Xavier didn’t register the movement until it was too late. He only had a moment to feel his father grabbing his arm before he was whisked through the familiar vacuum of demonic travel, and even less to register his new surroundings before he was thrown bodily against something cold and unyielding.

“You unearthed an intolerance, did you?” Zagan’s voice, so casual and amused just seconds ago, now quivered with rage.

Xavier went flying again, this time into something that splintered beneath the force of his weight. Wood?

“And when exactly did you do that, Xavier? Was it perhaps around the time that you became a father?”

Again, back into the unyielding cold. Stone. “Father, plea—”

“Not that I can even tell, since I’ve scarcely seen the child—my grandchild—more than twice since the day he was born!”

Xavier cried out as he was flung for a fourth time, several bones breaking upon landing forcefully on a stone floor. There was something soft beneath him, but whatever it was, it hadn’t been enough to cushion his fall.

He braced for another hit, relieved when none came. He could still hear the echo of his father’s furious footsteps, however, which meant the torment wasn’t over. Far from it. The pleasant Zagan of earlier was gone, and who had remained in his place was someone Xavier was very, very familiar with.

Familiar enough to know that he had only a few precious seconds to catch his breath and orient himself.

There wasn’t much he could see from this position apart from the ceiling of whatever edifice they were in but, not wanting to draw attention to himself too soon—or move lest he worsen his breaks—he observed what he could by turning his head.

Said ceiling, high and crisscrossed with thick wooden beams, appeared to be constructed of the same stone as the walls and floor. Dusty chandeliers covered in thick cobwebs were hung every few feet, the candles in them long unlit. The same went for the metal sconces on the walls.

He appeared to be lying in the middle of an aisle bordered on either side by what he could only assume was the wooden something he’d been thrown int—

No. Not just wood. Pews.

Xavier struggled into a sitting position, heedless of his broken bones and desire for inconspicuousness in his rush to confirm his suspicions, to confirm what he already knew.

Panic rose in his chest as he saw the cross silhouetted in stark relief against the waning sunlight streaming in through the stained-glass window.

They were in a church.

Had this been any other time on any other day Zagan wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to mock and use his son’s fear against him. Xavier’s childhood memories of being harrowed and abused by his stepmother and local priest amused him to no end but on this day, he didn’t so much as comment.

He just stalked down the aisle toward Xavier and slammed him back against the floor with a flick of his hand.

“After all,” he said, voice dangerously soft as he crouched beside his son. “I can hardly drop by for a visit now, can I? Not with all those wards you have on the estate that threaten to annihilate anyone who comes in unannounced.” He almost smiled. “You’ve amassed quite the bag of tricks over the last fifty years.”

Xavier could only shake his head. “The wards aren’t—”

“Aren’t what? Aren’t meant to keep me out?” Zagan scoffed, giving Xavier a dubious look as he grabbed a handful of his hair from the back of his head and stood. “Dear boy, do you really expect me to believe that?”

He gave Xavier’s hair a good hard yank, ignoring his son’s cries of pain as he dragged him down the aisle and deposited him on the small set of stairs leading to the altar. “You didn’t ward against me fifty years ago only because you didn’t know how to. If you had, you would’ve done it in a trice to help keep that pathetic little slave of yours out of my grasp, but I’m sure that’s already occurred to you.”

Indignation fought its way in beside pain and panic, and Zagan noticed. His son’s emotions had always been pitifully easy to read, moreso when they ran as profoundly as he knew this did. The servant was still a sore spot even after all this time.

Zagan paused.

“Had you realized?” he asked, crouching again to run a single finger down Xavier’s cheek, those ancient eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. “That this year marks the fiftieth anniversary? Had you realized, my beautiful boy, that half a century had passed since you came so close to defying me?”

Fifty years of pain and rage and grief so rarely expressed churned in Xavier’s gut and pulled at his soul. That his father could speak so cavalierly of Maximus and his loss made him want to scream and be ill in equal measure.

Had he realized? How could he not, when every day for the past year and a half had been a battle against remembering? How could he not, when every day he walked halls and sat in rooms identical to those Maximus had once drawn breath in, only to remember that they had burnt to the ground?

How could he not, when dead leaves and rose petals and ash were still enough to bring him to tears?

The same tears that streamed down his face now. Xavier was powerless to stop them and even if he could have, he likely wouldn’t have. After what he’d done to Maximus, an acknowledgement of his grief was the least Xavier could give him, even if his father was the only one who witnessed it.

“Oh my, look at that.” Zagan stroked his son’s face again, collecting those tears and rubbing the moisture between his fingers. He tsked, shaking his head. “My dear, it’s been an absolute age since then. How can a measly little servant still cause all this upset, hm? There now.”

Zagan slipped one arm under Xavier’s knees and the other behind his back, lifting and carrying him the rest of the way up the steps as if he weighed absolutely nothing. He gathered Xavier close, even took care not to jostle him too much.

Such loving gestures were not uncommon for the old demon. There were times in Hell when he had been the absolute image of gentleness and paternal affection, when he had held him as he did now and given him a reprieve from the torture.

But more torture had always followed. Showing him affection was rarely meant to comfort; it was meant to torment.

“I’m sure you feel like the past few decades have been a trial, but you see, I don’t think that’s entirely accurate.” Zagan set Xavier down as carefully as he’d picked him up, petting his hair as that indignant look returned to his son’s expression. “Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t doubt you’ve suffered a great deal over your servant. I don’t see why you would when they’re so readily available, but I don’t doubt it. I just think you haven’t quite…put things in perspective.”

With of wave of his father’s hand, every sconce, chandelier, and candelabra flickered to life, allowing Xavier his first real look at the derelict church. Not that there was much to see. No one had set foot in here for a very long time, let alone used it as a place of worship.

But when he turned his head, Xavier saw something that made his blood run cold.

Until now he’d felt trepidation, resentment, emotional anguish. Only when he saw the lines of a demon trap scorched into the threadbare carpet beneath him did he finally feel fear.

“Father…?”

“You see, my dear, I don’t think you realize how easy you got off all those years ago.” Zagan shed his coat and rolled up his sleeves.

“Father, please—”

Zagan knelt beside him. “My own son considers rebelling against me, disobeying me, gives a servant pride of place over his father, and what does he have to pay for it? Absolutely nothing.” He unbuttoned Xavier’s suit jacket and shirt, undid his trousers. “My son defies his father and still he gets to keep his estate, his businesses, his treasures. His life. All these things my son gets to keep, he goes virtually without punishment for fifty years, and does he realize that? Does it occur to him how generous his father has been in his infinite mercy? No. Rather than show gratitude, he has the childish audacity to believe he is the aggrieved party!”

Xavier didn’t see Zagan move. There was just an awful squelching sound, then searing pain as his father, having pierced his torso with a bare hand, sliced it upward and gutted him like a fish from groin to sternum.

“Which doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed your efforts,” Zagan said calmly above the echoing din of his son’s screams. Casually. “You’ve been such a good boy, treating your papa to afternoon tea and accompanying him for a walk. But I have been far too lax with you. You see that, don’t you?”

He gripped the jagged edges of Xavier’s wound and forced them apart to another chorus of screams. “All those wards, the prolonged absence.” Zagan shook his head. “There comes a point where it all gets to be a bit too much. What’s that expression? Getting too big for your britches? I think you’ll agree you got too big for yours a very long time ago. What’s more, I think you’ll agree that it’s high time that you paid the piper.”

Zagan got to his feet and made his way over to the wooden table beneath the stained-glass window at the head of the altar. He retrieved a hammer, a covered metal bowl, and a set of railroad spikes and brought them over to the demon trap, kneeling again.

Xavier could only watch him, borderline delirious as his chest heaved and his wounds bled. He didn’t dare lift his head to look at the damage; he’d seen enough of his own insides in Hell.

There was a vague hope that his blood would break the demon trap and allow him to get away, but he knew it was impossible even as he thought it. Zagan had prepared for this.

There was no getting away, especially once the first spike was hammered through one of his feet, piercing shoe leather, flesh, and carpet as it was driven into the stone beneath. Xavier bit back another scream, only to give in as his father pinned his arm above his head and drove the second spike into his hand.

“A necessary precaution,” Zagan explained, moving around to repeat the process on Xavier’s other side, barely reacting to the scent of demonic flesh charred by iron. “To make things easier for both of us. Remember what I always used to tell you?”

The third and fourth spikes were driven into Xavier’s free hand and foot, rendering him not quite immobile, but significantly limiting his range of motion. He was left completely vulnerable to Zagan.

“Well?”

He turned toward his father. The demon was looking at him expectantly, warmly—a complete contrast to that cold smile on his face that never quite reached his eyes.

“The more you struggle,” Xavier began, breathing raggedly, “the more it will hurt.”

“That’s exactly right. Good boy.” Zagan bent to kiss his brow and set the hammer aside. “Now be a love and stay still for your papa while he works.”

“What are you going to do?” Asked in a voice too soft and timid to belong to a demon.

“I thought you might ask. You see, I needed to come up with an appropriate punishment.” Zagan reached into his abdominal cavity and tore out a chunk of his liver, placing it on the carpet beside him while his son howled in agony. The shock and blood loss weren’t enough to kill him, of course, but there would be a great deal of both before Zagan was done.

“It had to fit the crime, else how could the lesson be truly felt?” His stomach joined his liver, spilling its bloody contents as it hit the floor with a sickening plop.

Xavier hadn’t felt pain like this since Hell. He wondered for a moment if he was in Hell. That endless red sky and the ceiling of the church blurred together in his mind while the stone under his back became the rocky banks of that boiling river of blood. He heard a scream—or perhaps a thousand—but no longer registered it as his own.

When his father spoke, he heard it as only an echo.

“I mentioned taking your estate and your belongings but upon reflection, that wouldn’t be a practical solution to the problem. You could always acquire more, and really, what do I want with a bunch of wine and trinkets and land?” The other half of his liver followed, then his spleen and pancreas, all added to the growing pile of viscera.

Zagan turned to Xavier, whose screams had quieted to pained whimpers as he began coughing up torrents of blood. “No matter how you look at it, it would only be an inconvenience to us both. An inconvenience, not a punishment. That was when I realized that there was something I could take from you that would serve as an appropriate punishment.”

The old demon reached into Xavier’s body with both hands this time, ripping through sheet after sheet of connective tissue as he worked to tear out Xavier’s intestines. Messy work but very necessary, although he did find himself wishing he’d brought a blade to speed up the process. But that’s what happened when one was forced to move with haste; things were bound to be forgotten.

To Xavier, that process seemed to take hours. Perhaps it did. He couldn’t help but think it would’ve been kinder to just kill him.

His only comfort was that the shock setting in made his body go almost numb, a small mercy for which he gave profound thanks. It was liable to be the only one he got. He only wished he could go deaf as well, or better yet, fall into blessed unconsciousness so he wouldn’t have to listen to or feel the rending of his flesh.

More hopes he knew would be dashed.

Such was Zagan’s concentration on his task that he fell silent. Humans did have such a lot of parts, but he had gotten most of it. It would do.

He gathered the slippery mass in his hands, considering adding them to the pile before deciding to simply drop them on his son’s lap. They didn’t need to be removed entirely, just moved out of the way.

“Right,” he sighed, looking around at his handiwork while he gathered his thoughts. “Where was I? Ah, yes. Your punishment.”

Zagan scooted a bit closer and tenderly took Xavier’s face in his hands, smiling beatifically as he stroked his son’s cheeks and smeared that handsome face with blood. “I believe you’ve lived in poor dead Christian for quite long enough, my precious one. Don’t you?”

For the second time since this ordeal began, panic took hold of Xavier. Not just a trickle of it, but huge, violent waves that made his adrenaline surge and had him struggling against his restraints despite the burning pain of the iron.

Please, God, let him not have heard correctly. Surely it was the delirium, the blood loss making him think his father had said what Xavier thought he’d just said. Or if had said it, perhaps Xavier just didn’t understand his meaning. It could mean anything, everything. Too much. Was it to be his life, a return to Hell? Was it—

“Settle down, Xavier,” Zagan chided, placing his hands on his son’s shoulders. “What did we say, hm? The more you struggle the more it will hurt, and this is going to hurt quite enough without you thrashing about like a landed fish. Settle.”

“Wh-what is?” Xavier’s voice was a raspy, choked sound, devoid of its usual elegance. For all that he struggled—or tried to, before pain and fatigue forced him to stillness—it was a battle to get out every single word. “Fath…father. What are y-you going…?”

“What am I going to do?”

At his son’s jerky nod, Zagan smiled and stroked his face again. “Just what I said. You’ve been living in Christian Deidrich’s body for far too long and it’s time for a change.”

“But w-what—”

“I’m going to take you out of Christian, Xavier. You will be removed from this vessel and placed into a new one.”

Xavier looked at this father in abject horror for a few silent, eternal moments before panic and adrenaline flooded back in with a vengeance.

He began to struggle to free himself in earnest as his father’s words and their full implications sank in. Whatever he’d suffered so far—gut-wrenching reminders of the past, the sear of iron, the removal of his organs—it would be nothing compared to what he knew awaited him now.

At this very moment, even the full weight of what it meant to lose Christian as his vessel couldn’t hold a candle to Xavier’s fear.

This reaction pleased Zagan immensely, and unlike before, he was perfectly happy to let Xavier wear himself out. In this weakened state it was all he’d manage to do, which would only make things easier once the real work began.

Besides, even if by some chance Xavier did tear the wounds around the spikes and freed himself, he was still inside the trap. He wasn’t going anywhere.

Zagan hummed to himself, giving his son’s cheek one last pat before getting to his feet.

One by one, he brought candelabras over to the altar. Not many remained after so many years of the church having been abandoned, but they were enough to give him the light he needed. The larger ones were placed around the perimeter of the trap and the smallest just inside. A single candlestick was placed beside Xavier.

Had he been able to, Xavier would’ve knocked that stupid candle over and set fire to the rug. Something his father probably would’ve considered if he wasn’t so obviously confident that it wouldn’t happen.

Xavier couldn’t deny that he was right to be. Already he was exhausted to the point of giving up. Physically, at least.

“Father…” he wheezed. “Plea…please…don’t—don’t do this to me…”

“Ahhh, I see we’ve moved from anger to bargaining,” Zagan chuckled, returning to his son’s side. “I understand, of course. A new face will be an adjustment after so many decades spent looking at the same reflection in the mirror, but don’t worry, my dear one. You’ll get used it.”

Xavier shook his head, swallowing back more tears. He didn’t want to get used to it. He wanted to remain in his body. No matter how mangled it was, it was his, and leaving it would mean suffering beyond measure in more ways than one.

“The spell…”

His father nodded patiently. “Yes, yes, I know. You locked yourself in. An excellent notion, truly. After all, one can never know who does and does not know an exorcism rite. No doubt it would have spoiled your fun if in the middle of a hunt, your quarry dispatched you back to Hell.”

Zagan stroked his hair again. “Pity that your good judgement should have to hurt you now.”

Tears began to flow freely again as Xavier tugged at his restraints with all the might he had left. It was precious little. “Fat-ther, please…please d-don’t…please…”

“Hush now. Begging won’t save you, Xavier.” Zagan picked up the bowl that until now had sat untouched beside the revolting mess of entrails. “As I’m sure you’ve gathered from the very fact that you’re able to be here, the church we are currently in is no longer consecrated ground. Faith left this place…” he shrugged, “a century ago, perhaps more. But despite that, there is one thing I’m so terribly curious to know.”

He removed the lid. “I wonder…despite the decades of absent devotion…if this water is still holy enough to hurt you.”

“N-nononono wait, don’t—!”

An awful steaming hiss drowned out his protests as Zagan slowly began pouring the bowl’s contents into Xavier’s abdominal cavity.

“You’re making it worse,” he said, raising his voice to make himself heard over the cacophony of tortured screams and howls of demonic pain.

His admonishment fell on deaf ears. The moment the first drop of holy water had touched his mutilated insides, Xavier had begun thrashing about in a desperate, mindless effort to escape from the torment.

Exhaustion had no hope of stilling his movements, even if those movements caused the water to splash and slosh about and cause even more pain. This was beyond the physical, beyond the human. Short of an exorcism this was the greatest suffering that could be inflicted on a demon, and Xavier had the great misfortune of knowing that was precisely what awaited him next.

He screamed, he sobbed, he begged his father to stop. At some point he even succeeded in tearing free of two of the spikes. But still the ordeal continued and would until the bowl was empty.

It would continue even when the bowl was empty, because for all that Xavier had moved about, a good deal of holy water remained on and inside of him. As long as it did, nothing would stop the screaming.

“Shhhh, darling, shhhh,” Zagan cooed at his son, pulling out the spikes that still restrained Xavier’s limbs so he could turn him on his side and empty out the water. It had completed its intended purpose and was thus no longer required.

He eased Xavier onto his back again and picked up the candlestick. “Right. I would very much like to say that’s the worst of it over, but we both know that’s not the case. Tell me, should I bother asking where you carved it?”

Although agonized groans and broken sobs had replaced blood-curdling screams, Xavier wasn’t in any condition to listen to his father, much less respond.

“I thought not. No matter. I have a fair idea which rite you used, and I believe that particular one calls for the inscription to be placed on the spine.”

At last, the true reason for the evisceration revealed.

Zagan brought the candle close to the gaping void that was Xavier’s torso, using its light to find exactly where the spell had been carved into the bone—a slightly easier task now that the holy water had rinsed out most of the blood.

“Ah, there it is.” Zagan tried to make out the symbols to confirm his suspicions. “What did I tell you?” he chuckled, setting aside the candlestick. “Predictable.”

Xavier had been left even weaker than before. His chest barely rose. His skin, already pale from loss of blood, looked gray and lifeless. There wasn’t a part of him that wasn’t burning in agony. The dread and fear and grief he should have felt eighty-six years ago when the hangman’s noose had been placed around his neck fell upon him now, far more heavily than they would have then.

Still, he had to try just one more time.

With what little strength he had left, Xavier turned to his father. “Please,” he begged, the barely audible whisper ragged and frail. “Father. Please…please don-n’t. You don’t—don’t kn-now…” he gasped for breath, “…what you—you’re take…tak-king…”

There was a beat of silence during which Xavier thought, just for a second, his father looked apologetic.

“But I do,” Zagan murmured, taking Xavier’s bloody, tear-stained face in his hands. He stayed like that for several moments, studying his child’s features one last time. He loved this face. It gave him no pleasure to destroy it. “I know exactly what I’m taking. My beautiful, beautiful boy.”

He bent to place a tender kiss on Xavier’s forehead. “Don’t fret. The pain won’t last. You’ll still be beautiful, I promise. I could never take that from you. You’ll even look like your brother.” He kissed Xavier’s forehead again, his brow, his cheeks, allowing them both the indulgence of true affection for just a moment.

Perhaps it would offer some comfort in the days to come.

Sighing, Zagan took the candlestick again and made another examination of the spell his son had used to lock himself in. It was simple, but perfectly effective against exorcisms and other such attempts to dislodge a demon from their vessel.

The symbols themselves were spread across four vertebrae and, upon closer inspection, appeared to be burned into the bone rather than inscribed. He had no doubt the process had been rather painful; things like this always were.

He reached in and carefully tore the first vertebra from Xavier’s spine, ensuring he removed only bone and nothing else.

Painful, yes, but not as painful as its reversal. Not in his hands.

Zagan recited a small incantation under his breath, brushing his thumb back and forth over the symbols as if merely rubbing away a bit of dust. With every swipe the symbols grew fainter and fainter until they disappeared altogether, leaving behind nothing but clean, unmarred bone.

He held it up to the candlelight and examined it again. Pleased, he tossed it away and pulled out the next one.

Xavier, no longer strong enough to scream, could only groan and sob as his father ripped yet more parts out of his body, overwhelmed by fear and pain.

But there was another sensation as well; an odd, supernatural pull somewhere deep inside his being. It seemed to exist independently of the pain, and had nothing to do with what was happening to him physically.

It did, however, have everything to do with what was happening to him magically. This body, having been technically dead for so many decades, was dying again. In all reality it had already died again, and as his father methodically did away with his lock, Xavier’s hold inside his vessel began to loosen.

By the time the last vertebra was torn from his spine and the symbols on it erased, that hold was all but nonexistent.

“There we are,” said Zagan, sighing again as he smiled to himself. “Now the real work begins.”

Even if he’d been inclined to bother with an exorcism, it was no longer necessary. Given enough time Xavier would be forced to leave Christian’s body on his own, but Zagan wasn’t inclined to wait.

Instead, he reached into his son’s abdominal cavity one last time, thrusting through dead flesh and fractured bone and into the very core of him, physical and metaphysical, feeling around until his hand closed around what he sought.

Making sure to maintain an iron grip on his prize, Zagan ripped Xavier free from what remained of his moorings. When Zagan’s hand emerged, bloody and singed, it held a cloud of oily black smoke that crackled with electricity.

There were no anguished screams to mark this final parting, no sobs or desperate pleas to echo off the stone.

There was only the burnt out, mutilated husk of a body, the scent of sulfur, and a cloud of oily black smoke.

Zagan smiled at the smoke and released it, leaving it free but still stuck inside the demon trap, before pushing the husk out of the way to give himself more room to work.

What came next would require every last ounce of his will and concentration. This was magic he did not inherently possess, and if he could not see his vision clearly, if he could not believe in it wholly, it would not bear fruit.

He closed his eyes, steeling his will as he began to draw every bit of energy in the room outside his own toward him, no matter how small. The remnants of Xavier’s emotion, the electricity of a demon in true form, the lifeforce of the plants surrounding the church—all were taken and absorbed.

Even the candles were drawn in, extinguishing themselves one by one as Zagan pulled their heat and energy close, inserting his will and chanting ancient magic to manipulate the mass of energy to his whim.

And there, in the middle of the demon trap, it slowly began to take form. A single point of light that pulsed and grew as yet more light surrounded and encased it, becoming a womb for an old demon’s creation.

With every pulse, the air shimmered as it regained its charge, making Zagan’s skin prickle and burn to the point of pain. But still he did not buckle, digging even deeper and giving even more of himself as he watched the light become something at once both liquid and solid, something that elongated and molded itself until it resembled a human body.

Almost done.

He looked up at where the cloud of smoke hovered above his head. It would be cleaner to do it in one fell swoop. Faster. Even for a being as old as he was, keeping this level of concentration took its toll. Mere seconds could be the difference between success and miserable failure.

The new vessel was almost complete; the moment it was, he would draw Xavier into it and seal him inside. He had to move quickly, but gingerly, with the precision of a surgeon.

Zagan took a deep breath. Clenching one hand as tightly as he could to hold his creation in place, he used the other to draw his child down and guide him into his new vessel.

A different kind of light began emanating from the body as it was slowly given life. Zagan grit his teeth against the strain as it grew in strength, as he was pushed to the very edge of his limits by the effort of controlling so much raw energy.

No sooner had the last wisp of black smoke disappeared from view than the light burned out with enough force to shatter every window in the crumbling church.

Zagan fell back, utterly exhausted but brimming with triumphant hubris as he gazed upon his creation. His vision, made flesh.

It was perfect.

Zagan spent a few moments catching his breath and recuperating some of his strength, after which he got to his feet to gather himself. He adjusted his sleeves and went to retrieve his coat, brushing off bits of colored glass before slipping it back on. He placed the bowl and the candlestick back on their table, took a piece of glass and sliced through the carpet, breaking the demon trap.

And when he finally approached the unconscious, supine body that now belonged to Xavier, and watched as he drew his first breath, Zagan bent to place a kiss on his forehead.

“Perhaps now you’ll learn,” he whispered. “My beautiful boy.”

A rustle of wings, and Xavier was left alone in the darkness.

#Waiting for a Tuesday self para

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lovemybluebully · 3 years

Text

Relaxation Interrupted

I recently just started drawing and writing again after a long hiatus so nice to be posting again! Hope to hear from some of you guys! :)

X-men Evolution-verse

*/M, F/M, Very slight M/F Tickling Pure family bonding FLUFF!! Summary: Logan is dragged to the beach and Kitty convinces him to allow her to bury him in the sand. Some cute fatherly Logan bonding with his girls. ^_^ Word Count: 5,035 (Way longer than I planned! lol)

Based on this picture I drew on my DeviantArt. ( https://www.deviantart.com/lovemybluebully/art/Relaxation-Interrupted-876785777 )

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaasse?"

"Still no." "C'mon Mr. Logan! It'll be fun!"

"Ya may be surprised to hear that I have a lot o' doubts about that." Wolverine was sitting on a towel on the sand of the local beach and was currently being pestered by his reason for being there in the first place; Kitty Pryde.

Professor Xavier thought it would be beneficial for Logan to start accompanying the students on a one-on-one basis for some bonding activities to improve student and teacher relations. Kitty had chosen the beach as their destination despite Logan's minor detest for sand, but he agreed with her promising just how relaxing it would be for him. He really could stand some relaxation. Especially after his day with Ororo's nephew Evan, who had naturally picked the skate park for them to go to. Not even Logan's natural reflexes and balance could keep him from ending up on his ass several times that day. He had to hold himself back from smashing every skateboard there to pieces. At least there was really nothing he could think of that might go wrong at the beach. The worst for most people was getting a sunburn, but he had no reason to worry about that with his healing factor. Kitty had brought along her young pit bull puppy that Logan had thoughtfully renamed to Runt, and after hiking the trail down the cliff-side they got settled in. The beach she had chosen was more secluded than the other tourist beaches in the area and currently there was no one around them for half a mile. Their time there wasn't bad so far. The weather was in their favor and the sun was out, keeping the air at a comfortable 70F degrees. All Logan had been doing was just sitting there throwing a small piece of driftwood for the puppy to fetch as he kept a watchful eye on Kitty splashing around in the ocean water. Eventually though she had emerged, and after drying off with a towel her next big idea was for him to let her bury him in the sand. Of course Logan was quick to reject the idea. "But, like, you don't even have to do anything! You can just sit there and-!" "Fer the last time Half-pint, ya ain't coverin' me with a buncha sand!" He growled with slight annoyance at her persistence as Runt came running back to deposit the retrieved stick in his hand. Kitty frowned with a pout of her lips as she turned and hugged her knees to her chest, looking genuinely disappointed. Logan instantly felt regret. He cursed his inability to resist feeling bad for the teenage girl, not wanting her to be unhappy because of him. Being one of the younger students at the school inherently made him more protective of her; not to mention how she had helped him come to his senses back when he had that mind-control chip that was implanted in his head. He supposed he could humor her for just a little while. What's the worst that could happen? With a loud sigh he softened his voice before throwing the stick for Runt once more. "Alright fine. If it means that much to ya then go ahead."

"Really?! You mean it?!" Kitty instantly perked up with a big smile and threw her arms around him, "Thanks Mr. Logan! You won't regret it!"

Logan smirked at how easy it was for her to change her mood and gave her a gentle hug back with one arm. "We'll see about that. Hopefully it ain't that hard to get off me after. Now if ya don't mind," he pulled his shirt off over his head, leaving him in just his swim trunks as he laid back on the towel, "I'm just gonna shut my eyes fer a few minutes an' catch some sun while yer doin' that." "Go right ahead! Like I said, you don't have to do anything. Just relax." "Sounds good to me." With the warmth of the sun penetrating all his exposed skin Logan found it easy to doze off rather quickly. Runt returned with the stick, but after finding Logan not responsive to him trying to thrust the stick into his hand the pup decided to just lay down beside him and start gnawing on the piece of wood. Meanwhile, Kitty got to work with the sand and began with his lower body, figuring that she'd be less likely to disturb his nap. It was about fifteen minutes later when Logan began to wake up, taking him a second to remember where he was. He opened his eyes and slowly sat up to find a large mound of sand covering his legs as Kitty continued to add more and more. "How's it goin' kid?"

She smiled when she heard his voice and saw he was awake again. "Pretty good. I actually had to start off with a lot of wet sand to get it going since the dry stuff was just sliding down and wouldn't stay in place. It doesn't feel too heavy on you I hope?"

Logan tried to move his legs a bit to test it, but found he couldn't budge them at all aside from his feet which the teen had left unburied and sticking out of the mound.

"Nah, it's fine. But if yer goal was to keep me from escapin' then I'd say ya succeeded," he wiggled his feet around, not too crazy about being restrained in any way, but he felt no threat from Kitty, and that little nap had relaxed him more than he thought it would. "It's only temporary. I'll dig you out when you're ready." Logan nodded as he discovered Runt asleep on the towel beside him, rubbing the dog's small body and waking him almost immediately. The puppy yipped excitedly as he licked at Logan's hand and then jumped to his paws to run down to the water to chase after the seagulls.

Kitty just smiled, knowing Logan had become very attached to the dog no matter how much he tried to appear otherwise. He was looking after Runt fondly before noticing he'd been caught by the pony-tailed girl as he tried to play it off. "Dumb mutt," he snorted and shook his head, breaking their eye contact to keep up his stoic demeanor. She tilted her head as it was her turn to look at him fondly. Others might find him to be hostile or unsociable or even just plain intimidating, which he was a lot of the time, but despite that she felt differently towards him. She knew firsthand of his dangerous animalistic side that he had trouble controlling, yet she still felt incredibly comfortable around him. She'd get homesick at times and found Logan always putting in the effort to be there for her in any way big or small. When she would feel like no one cared about any problems she was having he was the only one who was never too busy to listen and give her honest advice, even if sometimes it wasn't what she wanted to hear. He would never lie to her just for her sake and she appreciated that more than he knew.

She had grown pretty close to him and had taken the time to learn more about the side of him that he didn't show to many people. It took some digging as he was still pretty reserved when it came to showing emotions other than anger, but there were some things she had picked up. He may not show it in the traditional way, but he really did care about all of them. He was the crabby uncle and they were all his family. Logan finally looked back and found her staring at him strangely as he raised a brow.

"Uhhh...ya ok there Half-pint?"

She quickly snapped out of it and shook her head. "Sorry, I was just thinking. About how good you are to me. You'd really make a great dad," she smiled warmly as she thought she noticed a slight tinge of blush on Logan's cheeks as he just muttered and shrugged his shoulders. "Ah it ain't nothin' special. Don't even mention it," he tried to change the subject, "So uh, how's school goin'?" "It's not bad. I'm passing all my classes, and I've been cramming for my finals that are next week. It's nice to get a break from all that studying so thanks for coming here with me." "Any time kiddo. Sounds like ya needed a lil' getaway." "Yeah, I've had a lot on my mind lately," she looked to the side and fidgeted with her hands for a moment, "Hey Mr. Logan? You think I could talk to you about something?"

"Course ya can. Somethin' I can help ya with darlin'?"

"It's just...well Mr. Logan what I wanna know is-"

Logan cut her off. "How many times I gotta tell ya, ya don't gotta keep callin' me 'Mr', y'know? Think we're way past all the formalities. Just Logan'll do," he gave her a small smile for reassurance as she nodded. "Ok Logan. Anyways I was, like, just wondering, it might be stupid but...," she paused, biting her lip momentarily before the words just came tumbling out, "How do you know when a boy likes you?" She looked a little embarrassed for blurting it out like she did, but she was relieved to see no look of judgement on Wolverine's calm face. There never was no matter what she might say to him. "Boys, huh. Ya ain't old enough fer boys yet," his mouth quirked up slightly as Kitty just giggled. "In your mind I'd never be old enough," she shook her head, "But I'm 15 Logan, and boys are starting to notice me and well, I'm noticing them too. So like, what do I do? Should I start dressing different? Talking different? How do I know if I'm doing the right thing?" "Well first things first any boyfriend ya get is gonna need to have a private meetin' with me so I can beat...I mean, have a talk with 'em," he teased her as she laughed and playfully swatted his shoulder. "Stop it, I'm serious! Really though!" "Alright fine. Well I can't speak fer them, but you'd be surprised how much confidence can overcome any kinda physical attraction. It may sound corny, but just stay true to yerself an' those boys won't be able to resist. Any boy that likes ya purely fer yer physical attributes ain't worth yer time anyhow." "Well I don't think I'll have that problem anyways. I mean, I'm not as pretty as someone like Jean-"

"What're ya talkin' about darlin'? Yer beautiful. An' don't let no one ever tell ya otherwise. If they do then they'll have to answer to me," he unsheathed his claws momentarily with a smirk as Kitty just blushed, not one to take compliments that well. "You really mean that?" Logan opened his mouth to answer, but instead came out a snort that just as quickly developed into a goofy looking grin as the burly man surprisingly started to chuckle.

"Heh..Hehehe...Ehehehehee!" Kitty blushed with a frown this time, feeling self-conscious that Logan was now laughing at her as she regret opening up to him about this.

"Well you don't have to laugh at me. If this is all a joke to you then you can just-"

"No I-eheeheehehee! It's not-aahahah! Get away!"

"Get away? You want me to leave?" She was seriously confused by what he was trying to say, though he was struggling to speak clearly through his giggles. "No! N-Not you! Hehehahaa! My feet! Get 'im off! Ahahahahaahaa!" Logan leaned over the sand pile and tried to swat at something on the other side as Kitty finally realized that something else was going on. The teen peeked over the sand and her mind was eased when she found the source of Logan's sudden outburst. Runt had returned from playing down by the water and was now excitedly licking away at the soles of Logan's bare feet while his tail wagged with vigor. It was always a pleasant surprise to see that even with his normally tough exterior Wolverine had his soft side too. Even more surprising was the fact that he was actually a very ticklish guy. Kitty herself had gotten into a few tussles with him when he was in the right mood, usually getting Rogue to help her team up against the gruff mutant until they had him in tears. Currently the playful pup was tickling him greatly as his feet flailed around and his toes curled and flexed, unsuccessfully trying to evade the little tongue. "C'mon! Get that muhuhutt! Baahaahaha! He's ticklin' me!" Logan was laughing harder now as he tried to free his legs by leaning back on his hands and pulling with all his might to no avail. "Aww, he's just playing with you. Lets give him another minute," Kitty smiled, making no move to stop the happy puppy. She loved seeing Logan laugh like this. It was rare for him to do it on his own, but tickling him was always a guarantee. It was just one of the few natural reactions she got to see from him, and it was nice to see him not be so wound up tight all the time. He'd never admit it, but he was always in a much better mood after laughing his guts out. "Whahahat?! No! I caahaan't taahaake-heeheeheehahahah! Stoppit!" Logan howled as he again leaned over the sand mound and tried to shoo the puppy away, but Runt saw his laughter and the flailing of his hands as a positive reaction. In his mind Logan was enjoying this and encouraging him to continue as he'd jump back momentarily to playfully bark before leaping forward to attack his toes with more licks. "OK! OK! Seriously! Aahahahahah! No mohohore! Maahaahake 'im stahahahaap!" Logan fell back onto his elbows as he clawed at the sand in his attempts to pull himself loose, though starting to lose some of his strength from laughing so much. Kitty made some unenthusiastic calls to the puppy to try to get his attention. "Runt? Runt! Come here boy! Oh shoot Logan, he's just not listening to me," she giggled, showing that she really wasn't trying that hard. "Grab 'im!! Just graahahaab 'im!! Eeheeheeheehehe!! Pleeheeheeaase!!"

Kitty pretended to think it over as she listened to his laughter and hysterical giggles for another minute before finally deciding he'd had enough. "Alright, come here you," she smiled and scooped the puppy up as he stretched his tongue to take a few last laps at Logan's toes. She snuggled him close as he licked her chin before placing him back onto the sand and patting his backside. "Go on now. Go play," she shooed him off as he barked and ran back down towards the ocean. She then turned to check on her mentor who was now sitting back up and still a little out of breath, though luckily with his natural abilities he was able to recover fairly quick.

"I didn't...sign up fer this." "You didn't have to! It's all included! Told you this place would be relaxing!" "Yeah....Bein' tickled outta my mind is reeeeaal relaxin'," he grunted sarcastically with a roll of his eyes as she continued to smile brightly at him. "But how do you feel now?"

Logan paused as he realized what she meant. He didn't want to prove her right, but he really did feel relaxed. However he decided he wouldn't oblige her and would just deny it like he normally would. "Feel like I need a long vacation from the lot o' ya," he mustered up a frown as Kitty just smiled knowingly. He didn't have to admit it. She could tell by his body posture and how his muscles weren't tensed up that this was about as relaxed as he could get. "Was that your plan all along? Buryin' me like this so ya could tickle me to death an' "relax" me?" He growled a little, but the way he did it indicated no hint of being angry with her as she just laughed. "Ok yeah, you got me," she rolled her eyes playfully, "Pffft! No, of course not! But I will say it is an added bonus." To add to her tease she promptly reached over and tickled his exposed stomach as he started to squirm and giggle again, but she was close enough that he was then able to give her a few well-placed squeezes on her side causing her to squeal and jump away from him.

He smirked, looking pleased with himself as she glared dangerously back at him. When it was just Kitty by herself trying to launch a tickle attack on him she could get in a few good shots, but he usually was able to turn the tables rather quickly with having his size and strength on his side. The silly girl was always wearing flip flops or some other flimsy shoes that were easily removed and his rough fingers could go to town on her soft soles, while she would screech and pound her small fists on his back. It was only when she was able to get reinforcements like Rogue and/or Boom Boom that he turned it down a little bit, not wanting to get too rough with them. The problem was that they knew that and with that weakness exposed it just enabled them to more easily get him subdued where they'd all pile on top of him and viciously tickle his ribs and his unbearably ticklish underarms until he cried "Uncle".

Logan always liked to gloat about the times he would best her though. "That'll teach ya to mess with me Pryde. Guess I win afterall." "Oh do you?" Her eyes darted mischievously to the side as she immediately rushed for his feet. Logan's own eyes widened, forgetting that he was still prisoner as he grabbed a hold of her arm briefly, but she easily phased out of his grip.

His next move was to rapidly start trying to unbury his legs from the sand trap, but the moment he felt her fingers digging into his soles he lost his momentum and fell back in a fit of hysterical laughter. "Naaaahahahahohohoo! K-Kihihihitty!! I was....j-just johohokin'!!" "Oh yeah? Well I'm not the one who's laughing!" She grinned, spidering her fingers all over his tender arches as his feet wiggled frantically to get away, "How's it feel Logan, hmm? Does this tickle?" She enjoyed taunting him from this side for it was usually him saying similar things to her while he'd tickle her feet. It wasn't often that she really got the chance to get him there because of how strong he was, not to mention his feet were his worst spot so he guarded them well. She was going to enjoy this as long as she could get away with. "Ye-Yehehehes!! Ohahahahaha!! Staahaap!!" He laid on his back and pounded his fist against the sand as Runt ran around them, barking excitedly and occasionally diving in to lick Logan's face, which in turn was making him laugh even more as he tried to shove the little dog away.

"Aww the big bad Wolverine has ticklish feet huh? Coochie coochie coo!" Her fingers wriggled their way right under his toes, knowing he'd hit the roof. "AHAHAhaha!! No!! C'mon!! Quihihit playin'!! Nohohot the tohohohoes!!" Logan reflexively thrashed like crazy with his arms wrapped around his stomach, laughing so hard he thought he was going to bust his gut open. "Declare me the winner and I may show mercy," she was enjoying her power trip as she continued tickling his toes while her other hand performed a devastating scribbling attack on his meaty soles. "Ahahahalright!! I sur-surrender!! Hahahhaaha!! Ya win!! Ya wiiiiin!!" Tears had began to creep out of his eyes, but Kitty had one last thing in mind. "Admit you like Runt! Tell him you love him!" She barely got the words out as he began yelling them at the top of his lungs. "I LOVE YA!! I LOVE YA RUNT!! BAAHAHAHAHAAH!!"

Kitty smiled big and finally stopped, knowing that once Logan started obeying demands that he really couldn't take anymore. Wolverine panted for breath and remained fairly motionless while Runt climbed all over him and covered his face with wet kisses.

He finally regained some sense as he grabbed a hold of the small dog and cradled him in his arm, slowly sitting back up. "Aww I knew you loved him!" Kitty laughed as Logan raised a brow at her, but then couldn't help smiling as Runt squirmed up from his hold and licked at his stubbled chin.

"Yeah fine, ya got me. Guess I do," he set the pup down and wiped the slobber off of his face with his hand, "Geez, well ya definitely ain't buryin' me all the way now like ya wanted. In fact I'm never lettin' anyone bury me again. I've been tortured a lot o' ways in my lifetime an' bein' tickled like that is by far the worst."

Thinking of the extremely painful tortures Logan had experienced with him even comparing it on the same level as tickling made Kitty giggle at how overdramatic he could be. "Heehee, not my fault you're so ticklish. But that's a good thing! Because it's always a great day when I get to see you smile." Before he knew it she had jumped on him to hug her arms around his neck; his heart softening a little from her words as he gently patted her back. There weren't many that could look past his prickly exterior and genuinely cared about his well-being. "Yeah yeah, don't rub it in," he couldn't help smiling at just how much affection she showed towards him, even if he did resist at times. It was his turn to make her smile now. "By the way what I was tryin' to tell ya darlin' before I got interrupted earlier, yeah I meant what I said."

"Meant what?" She pulled back to curiously look him in the eyes. "That yer beautiful. One o' the most beautiful girls I know inside an' out. I'd never lie to ya 'bout that."

The smile that came over her face was worth everything that had happened to him that day. "Thanks Logan. I won't forget that. Thank you for trusting me and always letting me see the sweet side of you," she squeezed him tighter for a few moments before finally letting him out of her embrace, "Well how about we get you out of this sand now, hm?" With his help she then got started working on unburying his legs from the sand. As they neared exposing his legs Kitty couldn't resist giving his foot a little tickle, laughing as Logan yelped and yanked his legs completely free. He glared playfully at the giggling girl. "So funny I forgot to laugh." "Well I can fix that. Give it here and I'll try again," she teased, reaching for his foot again as he hastily scrambled to stand up. "In yer dreams. Well I think I'm a little over this beach. Whaddya say we go do somethin' else?" Logan grunted as he bent down to pick up his tshirt and pulled it back on over his head, then dusting the sand off of his legs with the towel. "Sure," Kitty nodded as she got up and collected her things, including having to pick up Runt out of the hole he was digging in the sand, "I know Professor said it's the student's choice, but maybe we could, like, go do something that you want to do?"

Logan looked back at her surprised as they started walking across the sand, not expecting that he was going to get to choose for once.

"Somethin' I wanna do? Well I really could use a drink after all that torture ya put me through. I say we hit the bar. Yer 21 right?"

"I'm 15 you dork!" She grinned, knowing he knew damn well as she poked his ribs to make him chuckle. "Heh, yeah I know I know. Alright well how 'bout I take ya to the gun range? Ya ever shot a gun before? It's somethin' ya definitely should know how to do in case yer ever in that situation. I mean, I don't use 'em much myself, but I gotta practice my shot anyways fer once those boys start comin' to the school callin' on ya," he flinched with a wide smile and managed to brush her hand away as she tried to tickle him again. "Oooh you keep this up and later I'm going to get the girls together and we're just gonna destroy you," she was half-serious and that pushed Logan's cocky side back out. "Ya think I'm scared? Bring it on bub. I can take on an army o' ninjas single-handed, pretty sure a few teenage girls would be nothin'," he grinned proudly, flexing his muscles as she just laughed and shook her head. "You remember that. Remember you said that when we have you pinned down and you're begging for your life." "Ya got a wild imagination Pryde," Logan smirked with a roll of his eyes, trying not to show a hint of just how much that thought made him shiver. "Just picture it. And we're not just going to stick to the usual spots, oh no," she succeeded in pinching his side this time to make him squirm, "I mean it'd be a crime to not let the other girls experience the joy of seeing how you react to having your feet tickled. I'm sure Jean would be more than happy to help us out and hold you down for us. Oooh then we could all get your other bad spots too at the same time; your armpits, your belly, that one spot on your lower ribs. I'll bet it would almost kill you if we-" "Alright, cut that out! I get it. I won't kill yer boyfriends. Well....long as they don't give me a reason to," he cursed himself for breaking under the mental torture she was inflicting, but imagining all that was making his skin crawl.

"That's all I can ask of you," she laughed and patted his large bicep, "Can't promise we still won't go through with that idea, but we'll see how it goes." "Great," Logan groaned with a face-palm, but then let out a guffaw as Kitty reached into his armpit with wiggling fingers, "HAAH! Will ya stop ticklin' me?!" "Ok ok, I'll stop. Oh hey, before we go to that shooting place do you think we could get something to eat first? I'm starving!" She hugged her waist as Logan felt his own stomach growl and nodded. "Yeah, me too. You an' that mutt made me burn a lot o' calories by makin' me laugh so much. I'll let ya pick this one."

"Groovy! Because I know of this great vegan place that you'll just...," she peeked a glance up at the disgusted look that had spread over Logan's face as she just started to laugh, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding! There's actually a really good steak house around here that's to die for! And they have a nice big outdoor patio so Runt can join us!"

She held the pup up in her arms who blissfully barked at hearing his name as Logan grinned and put his arm around her shoulders. "That's my girl. Now yer talkin' my language. Get on up now," he nudged her towards the steps leading up the cliffside to leave the beach. "Pretty sure they serve alcohol too so you can still get that drink you wanted!"

"Perfect. I might need to get some to-go also," he chuckled as he envisioned Kitty making good on her threats later that evening of getting her girlfriends after him. Having a good buzz would make that experience a lot easier to stand. But that would have to wait until later for he needed to be completely sober for their next activity. A firearm was serious business, and he would need his full mental capacity to thoroughly explain and show his student how to safely load, handle and shoot a hand gun.

His report back to the Professor later would be one of success in forging a stronger bond with young Kitty Pryde. He'd leave the part out where he was repeatedly tickled mercilessly, though seeing how tranquil Logan seemed would trigger Xavier's curiosity into how he got in that state. Wolverine was pretty resistant to keeping the Professor out of his head when he didn't want him in there so the telepath was forced to snoop around inside Kitty's mind later to unveil the truth. He of course knew that Logan was ticklish with it being hard for things to stay a secret in the school, but he was unaware of just how much the laughter he produced would greatly ease his mindset. There weren't many things that could get Logan to just shut off and forget about anything that was troubling him so Charles was pleased to see that something so simple could achieve that for him. He was also happy that people like Kitty, someone that Logan trusted, were more than willing to help him with that. It might be a stretch, but Charles looked at it as being the best therapy he'd ever seen for Logan's mental health. He'd known the man for many, many years and seen him try so many methods to bring him out of his brooding nature when all along he just needed to have a good laugh every now and then.

He hoped Logan wouldn't resist it too much and would realize what a positive thing it was for him. He could really stand a break from the tortured thoughts that constantly plagued his mind all these years. Though Charles had a good feeling that Kitty and the others wouldn't give him much choice in the matter either way. EPILOGUE: (Just a little more! XD) Word Count: 1,391 Charles was getting ready to turn in for the night when he decided to take one last scan of any conscious minds in the mansion grounds to make sure there were no impending threats nearby. He quickly picked up on a conversation downstairs. Kitty was among Rogue, Tabitha and Jean and she was going over some kind of strategy, though hearing the words "attack" and "Logan" made Xavier curious and tune in a little more precise. As all the details of their plot emerged Charles couldn't help the smile that came over him, but he still felt a sense of duty to at least try to warn his old friend. He quickly tracked Logan's current whereabouts, finding the man in the kitchen grabbing a beer from his stash and oblivious to what was about to befall him.

"Logan? Logan can you hear me?"

Logan wasn't even startled, used to having Xavier telepathically contact him on a frequent basis. "Hey Chuck. What's goin' on? Ya want a beer too?" Logan smirked and raised his beer can as he took a big swig, "This here's a double IPA I picked up from the-" "They're coming Logan. Get out of there. Get out before it's too late."

Logan frowned, having detected no unfamiliar scents within miles of the school as he rolled his eyes while chugging the rest of his beer. "What're ya talkin' about? No one's comin', ya crazy old fool. Maybe ya should try gettin' some sleep an' then you'll quit bein' so damn paranoid." Charles could now only listen and watch through all the involved eyes of Logan's doom as the first of them walked into the kitchen. "Oh, Jean. Ya should be in yer room. It's kinda late an' I got a doozy of a combat trainin' session for y'all tomorrow so ya might wanna rest up an'-Woah! Hey! Hey Jean what is this?! Put me down right now!" "Sorry Logan, it's nothing personal." "Thanks Jean! We'll take it from here."

"He's all yours ladies." "Kitty?! Rogue?! T-Tabitha?! Now wait a minute girls holdin' me down like this ain't fair! It's bad enough without- Oh nonono, don't! Don't take my boots off! At least let me keep my- No, not the socks too! Look! I'll take it easy on ya on the trainin' tomorrow! I'll cancel it even! Just don't- Heeheheehee!"

"Oooh the tough old badger is sensitive there."

"Told you!"

"Well Ah'm definitely gonna go first!"

"Do the honors Rogue! And then Runt wants a turn again!"

"No wait! We can make a deal! Aw hell, yer not gonna get me there too, are ya?! But-But not all at the same time, right? Right?!?!" "Don't worry Logan. It won't be that bad. We're just gonna give yah your daily dose of giggles!" "But I already got it today! Ask Kitty!" "She meant from ALL of us ya dummy!" "Ok, now on my command ladies. One..."

"No no no wait! Hear me out!" "Two..."

"Please! Ya can't do this! This is inhumane!" "Three!"

"BWAAHAHAHAHAAHAH!! NONOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA! STOOOOHAHAHAHOP IHIHIHIHIT!! AHAHAHAHAHAHACH-CHUHUHUHUHUCK!! HEHEHEHEHELLLLLLPPPP!!"

"I tried to warn you Logan. I'm afraid you're on your own." Charles simply smiled with a sympathetic shake of his head as he continued to observe. Logan's mental defenses had been disabled with him being too preoccupied with dealing with the extreme tickling that Charles was able to sneak in and see just what was going on in his mind.

Yes, Logan had begged like crazy not to be tickled, but it really didn't bother him as much as he made out. His thoughts revealed that he was enjoying the bonding aspect of this with the girls; not minding having to suffer as long as they were having fun. This was a little more intense tickling than he was used to so his sensitive nerves were a bit overwhelmed trying to process it all, but his brain was still flooded with the feel good hormones, pushing all signs of any stress to the back of his mind. In a way Logan was glad that Jean was holding him down as he didn't have to combat the urge to fight against it on his own. He didn't have to concentrate on not lashing out and accidentally hurting one of the girls, which was always a fear he had. All he had to do was laugh. The pleading for them to stop was involuntary and he didn't really try to keep it in, knowing the girls loved hearing it as much as they did hearing him laugh so freely. Charles realized that Logan did indeed see the benefit in this for him, but also he saw the joy and amusement that it brought to the girls and that's what really pushed him to grin and bear it.

He watched as they finally let him go about six minutes later, which was about four minutes after Logan was already in tears from laughing. Jean lifted the exhausted man off the floor and gently placed him onto the nearby couch recliner to recover before bidding the others goodnight and heading up to her room.

Kitty, Rogue and Tabitha scrambled to get on the couch as they all piled on top to hug and cuddle him, still playfully teasing him. "Man, you're just too ticklish Wolvie."

"Yeah Ah think we almost killed 'im." "No way! He can take it, right Logan?"

"Piece o' cake. Barely felt a thing."

The three girls just laughed and snuggled against the older mutant as he put his arms around them and pulled them closer. "Love you Logan!" "Yeah, thanks for pulling that stick out of your butt for a little while, you pushover."

"Well that stick is goin' right back in first thing tomorrow. I'm still holdin' that trainin' session in the mornin' an' I expect all o' ya to show up ready to be serious an' pay attention. No foolin' around, alright?" "Are you suggesting we wouldn't be on our best behavior? You know we're your best students."

"Sure, I'll let ya think that if it helps ya sleep at night."

"Hey!"

"Hehehehe, alright knohahahock it off! I know I'm lucky to have all o' ya!" "Don't you forget it." "Believe me, that's somethin' I ain't ever gonna forget."

The way he smiled at them showed pure devotion, which was something Charles hadn't seen from him in a long time. He loved those girls and they loved him back. He'd make sure nothing ever happened to them and would protect them with his life. Sleep was overtaking Logan now as he yawned and allowed his eyes to shut; his mind still swimming in the flood of endorphins and ensuring he would not be having any nightmares. Kitty and Rogue leaned in closer to his sides and Tabitha lay across his lap as they all closed their eyes as well; Logan unable to hold back his smile.

A small yip from the floor made Logan crack open one eye as he spied Runt trying to get up onto the couch with them, but was too small to reach the top. Being carefully not to move too much and disrupt the girls Logan slowly lowered his foot for the little puppy to climb onto and used it to lift him up. Runt gave his foot a soft lick in appreciation as Logan winced and had to try his hardest to not make any sudden movements. The pup then spun a few circles and made himself comfortable nestled between Logan's feet on the recliner as the man gave one last smile of satisfaction and began to drift back off to sleep. Those three girls and their dog were in the safest place they could ever be; in the loving embrace of one of the deadliest mutants alive. God forbid anyone who tried to disturb them. "Ya can get outta my head now Chuck. Show's over."

Charles was shocked and instantly released all the mind connections he had made, but he couldn't help letting out a relieved chuckle. It wasn't that he had been able to sneak into Logan's mind, he had been let in. Seeing this whole night play out had Xavier remember something he had seen in Kitty's mind from her beach outing with Logan earlier. "You'd really make a great dad," she had told him. Charles couldn't agree more.

#ticklefic #wolverine #logan #kittypryde #shadowcat #fluff #familybonding #tickle #tickling #ticklish!wolverine #ticklish!logan #xmenevolution #boomboom #tabithasmith #rogue #annamarie #jeangrey

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crash-cinematic-universe · 4 years

Text

A Speedster, A Nuclear Bomb, and a Worn Down Walkman (Ch.1)

pairing: peter maximoff/fem!Wilson!reader

summary: Y/n Wilson is the only child of the renowned X-Man Deadpool. When Y/n is asked to enroll in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters by Charles Xavier himself, she has no choice but to accept; much to the dismay of her father. Y/n isn’t used to the knew surroundings or the constant stress of her mutation. All she wanted to do was disappear. Little did Y/n know, she caught the eyes of a certain speedster who wasn’t planning on letting her fade away anytime soon.

req: Hey, I was wondering if you could write something about dating peter maximoff and being deadpools kid - @8-eight-8

warnings: none, rlly

notes: FUCK YEAH!!! IM BACK TO WRITING THIS SERIES BABEY. sorry this took so long, i swear it wont take this long next time. also 2.5k words to make up for it hell yeah!

PREVIOUS: prologue

taglist: @creator-appreciator, @wallows-spring

Saying that life at the academy was hectic would be a severe understatement; your first few days were filled to the brim with endless placement assessments and class work and first impressions. It was as if you were meeting every person at once, each new smiling face and unique name immediately leaving your brain after mere seconds of talking. It was overwhelming and chaotic and at one point you felt as if you had begun to spiral in the first week-- worst of all, you were beginning to miss your father. However, there was one person who stuck in your mind like a fly to a gluetrap-- Peter Maximoff.

Peter was made of pure adrenaline, constantly on the move at high speeds as if he would cease to exist if he were to stand still. Nevertheless, he somehow managed to land himself right next to you anywhere you went. You’re not exactly complaining, though, you quite like having Peter around. He’s like your anchor, a person you can lean on when everyone and everything becomes too much-- not to mention Peter’s physical appearance. His features were refined and smooth, as if he was carved from marble by Michelangelo himself. He always had a grin on his face, his eyes lighting up like Fourth of July fireworks that you just can’t look away from.

Similarly, Peter was still having trouble processing… you. You were like an ethereal being, an inhuman gracefulness and beauty following you everywhere you went. You brightened up rooms, your laugh could make the saddest person feel uplifted, your eyes were abyss-like pools that made Peter feel fuzzy whenever they locked with him. Peter couldn’t stay away from you if he tried-- you were magnetic, an invisible force pulling him closer and closer until he got close enough to smell the shampoo you use. Everything about you was amazing and perfect and pristine to him-- he would be lying if he claimed he didn’t have a crush on you. Unfortunately for Peter, you were completely and totally out of his league. In fact, you were so out of his league that the mere thought of you liking him seemed about as realistic as a fever dream. For now, Peter was content with being your friend.

Meanwhile, Charles was attempting to settle on one of the hardest dilemmas of his lifetime. Originally, Charles had invited you to the academy to attempt to control your mutation. Hank had run various tests to get an idea of exactly how strong you’d become, and the results were shocking. Long story short, both Charles and Hank had come to the conclusion that you were a ticking time bomb. With every day that passes your manipulation of energy expands, reigning in more and more force by the second. The process is gradual and slow, but with time, you would lose your ability to contain the energy. Keeping you in the academy would be your only chance at stopping your inevitable destination, but that would also put the rest of the students at risk. Then again, you were useful; having you on the X-Men team would help save so many people. For the first time in what felt like years, Charles didn’t know what to do.

“Hank,” The British man called. “If you were the equivalent to a timed explosive, would you… would you want to know?”

“I’m sorry?” Hank’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I just… I’m not sure if I should tell Y/n about her… situation.” Hank nods in understanding before inhaling deeply.

“Charles, she’s only been here a few days. She’s barely settled in-- give her time to… warm up to the place.” Hank replies. That doesn’t help Charles’s situation.

“And after that? After she’s settled in?” Hank sighs. He’s not sure what to do either-- all Hank really knows is that he wants whatever's best for you. Hank had come to enjoy your presence through the last few days. You were kind and paid attention to Hank and his interests. It was refreshing-- Hank wasn’t used to having some be genuinely impressed by his work.

“You have to tell her eventually, Charles. You’re only hurting her by hiding it.” Charles groans and leans back in his chair. He was truly dreading this conversation-- he had no doubt in his mind that you’d want what’s best for the other students; Wade mentioned that you had a habit of putting others' needs and feelings before your own.

“Thank you, Hank. That’ll be all.” He waves the other man out of the room, allowing himself to be left to his own thoughts. Charles’s head ached as he glanced at the report Hank had written on you, one specific observation jumping out at the distressed man: “Y/n Wilson is as much an evolutionary breakthrough as she is a safety hazard-- she must learn to contain her power; if she’s successful, she’ll be one of the most powerful mutants ever recorded. If she fails-- if we fail, the consequences will be as catastrophic and destructive as a nuclear explosive. Proceed with caution.”

______________

The sound of confused giggles and hurried footsteps echo through the hallway as Peter gently tugs you along, turning to glance at you every now and then. Peter knew you were having trouble getting comfortable with the other students, and he was determined to change that. He had a small group of friends that were eager to meet you-- Peter managed to bring you up in every conversation he’s had with anyone in the past week.

“Peter, where are we going?” You question as Peter turns around a corner. He just shoots a smile back at you before quickly pulling you into his bedroom-- a bunch of students sitting in various places on the floor. You can recognize a few faces from the hallways, but other than that they’re mostly strangers. Except for one-- I can recognize Kurt from the library.

“Alright, so, uh, I thought that maybe you’d want to meet some of my friends. Just to-- uhm-- just to get more used to some of the people here.” Peter’s stomach flutters as you grin at him.

“You did this for me?” Peter nodded before your attention was quickly drawn away from him and to the people around the room. Peter is quick to introduce you to all his friends.

“Uh, Kurt, Jubilee, Scott, Jean, Ororo, this is Y/n,” A blue teenager materializes in front of me almost instantly.

“We met already but it is nice to meet you again,” He grins a toothy grin, his hand extending to shake mine. I’m soon met by a boy wearing odd goggles, presumably Scott, then Jubilee, then Ororo, then finally, Jean. They were all friendly and unique and oddly comforting in a way, regardless of the fact that they were all a full decade younger than you and Peter.

“What’s the best way to get to know someone?” Scott asks, glancing at Jubilee. She smirks back at him.

“In all 16 years of living, I’ve come to learn that the single best way to get to know someone's personality is via the ancient practice of Truth or Dare.” She grins wildly.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know if--” You can hear Peter inhale sharply as Scott pulls him onto the floor, the other students following suit and soon forming a circle on the floor. Jubilee tugs you down by your sleeve.

“Alright, who’s first?” Jean quips. Everyone exchanges a look before settling on Peter.

“Oh, uhm… Kurt, truth or dare?” Everyone seems to be disappointed by Peter’s selection, but they continue nevertheless.

“Truth.” Peter bites his lip while he attempts to think of a question to ask, and you can’t help but stare. The silver speedster is undeniably cute-- you’ll willfully admit that any day. “Out of everyone here, who do you think is the smartest?”

“Well, both you and Y/n are much older than ze rest of us, so it’s one von of you two-- sorry Jean, zey just have more experience. Uh, I guess Y/n since I vonce saw Peter try to catch a bird with his bare hands.” You laugh out loud at this new discovery and Peter’s face burns a light red.

“Alright, Kurt, it’s your turn.” Jean says. The blue boy scans the crowd before choosing the next victim.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” All eyes turned to you expectantly. You were never a coward, so you took the most logical route.

“Dare.” The entire group jitters with excitement, anticipation for what odd things Kurt would make you do circulating in the air.

“I dare you… to hold hands with Peter for ze rest of ze game.” Scott and Jean both huff in disappointment as Jubilee and Ororo gaze at Kurt with such fury it was as if they were trying to kill him. This dare was odd, sure, but you weren’t one to back down.

“Easy peasy,” You quip as you hold out your hand for Peter to take. He laces your fingers with yours and immediately your entire arm feels as if it had just been jostled awake. The feeling of Peter’s hand in yours is foreign, but incredibly welcome. His hands are warm.

“My turn, right?” You ask, trying to forget the fact that Peter’s hand is entangled with yours. “Jubilee, truth or dare?”

“Truth, and make it good.” She grins.

“Whose mutation do you think is the least useful out of everyone in this circle?” Jubilee glances around the circle.

“Depends. I don’t know what yours is,” she trails off for a moment. “And I don’t wanna be mean…”

“My mutation is energy manipulation-- I can control the energy that’s constantly being produced.” Peter’s grip on your hand tightens a bit as Jube’s eyes widen.

“Okay, that’s fucking awesome so definitely not yours,” she exclaims. “Kurt and Peter are useful in combat, Jean is useful in getting information, Ororo and Scott are both super powerful-- I think my mutation is the least useful.”

“Don’t say that, Jubilee,” Scott says from across the circle. “You’re useful sometimes.” Jean cringes at his words and both Jubilee and Kurt laugh aloud. Scott seems unaware of his mistake.

“Thanks, Scott,” The young girl said before returning to the game. “Alright, my turn again? Ororo, truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Ororo smirks. She’s quite pretty, her hair looked soft and shimmery-- not dissimilar to Peter’s.

“I dare you to knock the power out of the entire mansion for a full five minutes.” Ororo complies, a large clap of thunder echoing through the mansion as the room goes dark. Ororo had created a large thunderstorm to cover for the power outage, lightning and rain wailing down on the windows. Peter grips your hand tightly, his muscles tensing as he shuts his eyes for a moment. The other students are consumed by their chatter and laughter in the darkness.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask softly. Peter is jumpy and nervous, but he doesn’t want to seem cowardly in front of you.

“Y-yeah, I’m just not the b-biggest fan of thunderstorms,” You can tell he’s trying to act tough. Gently, you run your thumb over his knuckles in an attempt to calm him down.

“Don’t worry, silver, the storm will pass. For now, I can distract you if you’d like me to,” You offer. Peter looks at you for a moment, and his heart skips a beat. You’re kind and sweet and selfless, you’re considerate and caring and wonderful and Peter is in awe of you.

“A distraction would be nice.” Peter said quietly, wincing at the weakness in his voice. He was almost 30 years old, one of the oldest among the group in the room and he was cowering because of a little thunder. He felt ashamed and small-- it really was no shocker that you were out of his league. However, when you flipped his hand over and began tracing shapes on his palm with your finger, all of his worries melted away for a moment.

After a while, Ororo switched the lights back on and dispersed the storm outside, the group of teens returning to the antics almost instantaneously. You pulled your hands away from Peter reluctantly.

“Well, uh, I better get going-- I have some work to do.” You say as you stand up. “It was lovely to meet all of you, this game was pretty fun. I’ll see you around.” You can hear Peter scramble behind you, quickly following you out of the room as if he were a lost puppy. You walked in silence for a while, Peter’s strides in sync with yours as you made your way to your bedroom. You admired the detailed architecture along the walls as you walked, various small symbols were scattered across the wallpaper. You didn’t realize you’d reached your bedroom until you were standing face-to-face with the door.

“Thank you.” Peter says, his voice low and raspy. He’s not looking at you, his eyes glued to the floor.

“For what?” The shameful feelings returned as Peter kept his eyes on the floor. He feels like a baby-- a whiny baby who gets afraid during thunderstorms and has trouble articulating his thoughts and feelings. It made him so frustrated when he couldn’t find the words to say what needed to be said-- his mind just moved too fast to grip onto any coherent thoughts. When he glanced into your eyes, he managed to get something out.

“It’s just that I know a lot of people who would make fun of me for being as old as I am and so easily scared.” You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. Peter didn’t want you to pity him, but at this point he just needed to express his gratitude. “Thank you for… not being one of those people.” You took his face gently in your hands and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Anytime, Maximoff. Anytime.” You smiled before opening your bedroom door and stepping inside. The first thing you notice is that the books on your desk have been knocked over. Then, you realize that there was someone standing behind you.

You yelp, whipping around and shooting out a blast of energy. You didn’t even expel that much force, but the figure is launched into the wall. It’s only then that you realize this figure was actually your father.

“Dad? What the fuck are you doing here?!” You shout as you rush to help him off the floor.

“What, I need a reason to come see my daughter?” He jokes as he pops his arm back into its socket. He looks worried, but he masks it with a smile. “It just happens that Charles wanted to see me the same day I came to visit you.”

“Charles wants to see you? Why?” You ask as Wade pulls you into a hug. A cough from the doorway startles you apart, and a very anxious looking Hank is standing in the doorway.

“Looks like we’re about to find out,”

#Evan Peters #peter maximoff #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximof x reader #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #xmen #xmen fanfiction #xmen imagine #xmen series #wade wilson #wilson!reader #peter maximoff x wilson!reader #a speedster a nuclear bomb and a worn down walkman series

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myluciferiscody · 4 years

Text

i loved you first. p.1

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 2,205

warnings: au! in present time, language, but okay can you imagine (not dead) Xavier THRIVING in 2020

not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by joan’s song*

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | epilogue

When you met Xavier Plympton, your relationship had been strictly platonic. You expected it to remain that way, despite the fact he was funny, empathetic, good looking, and at times, a little dumb, endearingly so.

So when you started to fall for him, you continually brushed it off.

Oh, it's just a phase, you'd think to yourself as Xavier sheepishly wiped down the kitchen after using the Ninja blender and not securing the lid tightly enough. Or the time he and his friend, Chet, spent hours in your cramped living room arguing because they couldn't figure out how to set up the Roku Xavier bought instead of paying for cable. You watched in amusement, sipping your smoothie, wrapped in your blanket until they finally figured it out.

The little things Xavier would do for you also did not help. He'd make your coffee in the morning, or make dinner on nights you'd run late or grab food on the way home, ready to pig out and watch Netflix. The little things you never thought would make you fall for someone, did.

When your first anniversary of living together passed, Xavier bought a box of Capri-Suns and put some balloons in the living room when you arrived home from work. Your feet were aching, and you were ready to take a hot shower and curl up in bed. Xavier's infectious smile made you forget all of the seemingly endless bad things that had happened to you that day.

Still, you continued to hide your true feelings. Xavier never indicated he felt the same for you, and you were afraid of getting in too deep just to become disappointed.

It was like watching a Hallmark movie enfold in front of you when your best friends, Montana and Brooke soon realized you had feelings for him.

"You should tell him, y/n," Brooke said, her eyes bright, she was quite the romantic.

"Yeah, it's unfortunate watching you pine over him," Montana said, shrugging at you when you glared at her. "What? All I'm saying is that it's sad, and you deserve to be happy," she said. Brooke nodded in agreement.

"And if he doesn't like me back? I might lose him for good," you said, pushing that wicked thought away as fast as it came. "I don't want to lose him."

Brooke and Montana shared a look before changing the subject. You still caught the glimpses they threw you throughout the evening.

That was last weekend, and now that Friday was slowly approaching, you anxiously watched as the clock ticked to the time your shift ended. Xavier wanted everybody to go out and have a good time tonight, and he claimed he was bringing along a "special guest." You immediately assumed it was Brooke's boyfriend, Ray, who was away for work and was supposed to be home a day early to surprise her.

You were... kind of correct.

Ray was there, but so was another woman.

Who Xavier introduced as his girlfriend.

The initial shock at his words quickly manifested on your face. It was more horrifying when not only Brooke and Montana looked at you, but Chet and Ray as well. You hid your face with your hair as Xavier proudly introduced his friends to the redhead who was clinging to his waist.

"-and my roommate, y/n," he gestured to you with a grin.

You slowly waved at her, ignoring the sinking feeling in your belly as she slowly sized you up and down before smiling and waving back. For a quick second, you felt judged. Until you realized you had also checked her out for the simple fact of wondering what she had that you didn't.

"Guys, this is Chloe," Xavier grinned down at her, before pressing a kiss to her head.

"How long have you two been together?" Ray asked, throwing his arm around Brooke, who slid her eyes from yours.

"About a month, huh babe?" Chloe smiled.

Your mouth dropped open, looking at the couple in front of you as if they grew two heads. You lived with him, and Xavier never told you about her?

How could you not know?

You continued to remain silent as everybody congratulated Xavier on his newfound romance. A part of you was angry; Xavier was one of your closest friends, you told him everything, and he did the same. For the most part.

Had she been to your apartment? When you weren't home? When you were asleep?

You were also angry that you seemed to miss all the signs. Plus, your heart had just been shattered into a million pieces, and the night had barely begun.

Xavier followed the boys to the bar, promising to pay for the first round. Chloe stayed behind, sitting down in the booth with a sigh. Montana took your hand, giving you a reassuring smile as your eyes blinked back tears.

"Aww, are you two dating?" Chloe asked, her eyes trained on your hands. You could hear her excitement. "I've always wanted lesbian friends!"

Montana smirked, squeezing you tighter. You gave her an alarmed look, but like always, Montana came through. "Only for this one, babe," she said. "Plus, we kind of only just met you, so."

You released Montana's hand, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom while Chloe started taking selfies for her Snapchat. Brooke went to find the boys as you walked to the nearest safe haven, keeping your head down.

You didn't realize that Montana had followed you until you went to lock the door. She gave you a sad smile as she let it click shut, before locking it. For a bathroom at a bar, it was nicely cleaned and smelt like peppermint.

"I didn't know if you wanted to be alone..." she whispered.

"N-No, it's fine," you said, ripping out some paper towels to dry your eyes with. "I appreciate the company."

"If I had known, I would have told you about her, Xavier kept her from me too."

"I just feel so stupid," you sniffled, turning on the water to wipe your eyes with. "To think Xavier would remain single forever until I grew a pair to tell him."

"It's not your fault!" Montana interjected.

You nodded to appease her, but deep down, you were still thinking of the redhead in the other room who was dating the person you loved most.

The night went with you sitting in the booth, watching all your friends dance and grind on each other.

Brooke had an early shift the next day and eventually joined you, swearing off alcohol for the rest of the night. She wrapped her arm around your shoulder, causing you to tear up a little.

Chloe seemed friendly, and you hated that. You wanted to find an excuse to hate everything about her, but it was almost impossible. She had tried talking to you about Xavier, but he pulled her up and away, and you had to stare at the table, so you didn't see them practically fucking through their clothes.

It was the worst when your closest friends didn't seem to notice something was up. Or they pretended not too. The boys were clueless, and you probably needed to be thankful for that. Chet wasn't always the best with dealing with "girl problems," and Ray was currently drunk off his ass. Xavier just danced with Chloe and occasionally came back to the table to suck down his drink.

One AM slowly came around, and you gathered your things, checking your phone to see it was close to dying.

"I think I'm gonna go home." you leaned over as Brooke looked up from her own. She smiled at you, pulling you into a hug, which you gratefully returned.

"Text me when you get there!" she said, saying a final goodbye as you slipped out of the booth. You shrugged on your light jacket, dodging the dancing bodies, and made your way to the entrance when an all too familiar hand gripped your arm.

"Hey! Where are you going, y/n?" Xavier asked, pressing your hand to his chest like he always has. He didn't seem to be drunk yet. "The night's still young, babe!"

You frowned at him, loving his touch, but you pulled your hand from him. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going home!" you called out over the music, refusing to meet his eyes.

"I haven't seen you all night!" he said, a pout on his face. You wanted to throw Chloe into his face, but you knew better. He deserved to hang out with who he wanted. To date, who he wanted.

"Oh, yeah, you've been busy," you said. "I gotta go, Xav," you pulled yourself from his grasp completely before slipping the hood over your head as you walked outside to your car.

When you got home, you texted your girls like you promised and slipped into the shower. You blared your favorite songs, crying when you needed to and fuming when you didn't.

You're so naive, thinking Xavier Plympton could love you.

Don't be so harsh, you then scolded yourself. But at the same time, those words hung heavily over your heart until you crawled into bed, falling fast asleep.

The next few days were somewhat average. You went to work, came home, spent time with Montana or Brooke when Xavier wasn't back at his usual time.

You hadn't seen or heard anything from Chloe since the night you met her.

Almost a week after the bar, you were surprised to find Xavier lounged on the couch, wrapped up in blankets. His cheeks were rosy, and he looked tired. Oh no.

Xavier Plympton had a fever every few months, it seemed. You had always been his designated caretaker since you met him. A part of you hoped that some things could still be the same, even with him having a girlfriend.

He smiled at the sight of you until you heard rustling in the kitchen. You set your bag down in your usual spot, "Xavier, is it another fe-,"

"Xavier! Baby, your tea is ready," Chloe chirped as she came in from the kitchen. She didn't glance at you as she walked to Xavier, holding your designated mug in her hands.

"What kind?" Xavier piped up, sitting up just a bit. You continued winding down, using your ears instead of your eyes.

"Black."

You fought the urge to snicker aloud. Xavier's favorite tea was peppermint, especially when he was sick. You could almost imagine the disgust on his face.

"Oh, thanks, babe," he said lamely. Xavier sat up, gently blowing on the steaming mug in his hands. Chloe sat in the only available chair, watching him with rapt interest. You headed to your room, stripping from your work clothes, not realizing you were rushing just to run back out there.

You're not going to spy on them!

YES, I AM! You snickered to yourself, slipping on your pajamas before brushing out the tangled knots in your hair.

Xavier had laid back down when you came out, watching reruns of Judge Judy while Chloe typed on her phone. Her brows were furrowed as she concentrated, and even then, she looked gorgeous. You chewed on your lip as you crawled on the floor towards Xavier, who smiled at you when you sat in front of him.

"Hey," he rasped.

"Hey, you," you pressed a hand to his forehead, instantly feeling the heat radiating from his skin. "When did this start?"

Xavier shrugged, "I woke up this morning and felt like shit, I've been here all day,"

"Are you monitoring your temperature?" you asked.

"Yes."

"Are you staying, hydrated?"

"Yes."

"Did you wash your sheets?"

Xavier gave you a guilty yet charming smile. "No, I have not."

You laughed a bit, removing your hand from his forehead. "I'll do it for you," you glanced at the teacup on the coffee table, seeing it was barely touched. Chloe didn't seem to be paying you much mind, so you asked him if he'd like more tea. He nodded, almost aggressively as you stood up, promising to make his favorite.

The rest of the night went like this: Chloe hounded Xavier about a few outfit choices she was debating for an important meeting at her job. You made Xavier some soup, opting to reheat your leftovers from the night before. Xavier drank two cups of peppermint tea, then dozed off, leaving an awkward silence between you and Chloe. She seemed attached to her phone, but you didn't mind.

You watched television, still sitting in the same spot on the floor as Xavier softly snored in your ear. It wasn't until you were dozing off yourself that Chloe left, pressing a kiss to Xavier's hot forehead before leaving.

You had changed and washed his bedsheets, but you knew it was pointless trying to move him into bed. When Xavier was sick, he slept like he was dead. You turned off the television and gathered his dirty dishes to place them in the sink.

No matter what became of you and Xavier, or Xavier and Chloe, you knew some things would just never change. One of them is you would always care for Xavier, no matter what.

*if you want to be added to the taglist, you know the drill.*

#xavier plympton x reader #cody fern #ahs 1984 #michael langdon x reader #duncan shepherd x reader #jim mason x reader #ahs imagine

369 notes · View notes

mswhich · 3 years

Text

No Fit King - Original Work, m/m

My most recent fic is a 20k-word original work in a fantasy medieval setting. It was written for the Relationshipping exchange, which is an incest-thematic exchange, and the prompt was for "Crown Prince/Brother Who's Thinking of Killing Him."

I would absolutely love for you to read it, and if you enjoy it, leave me a comment. <3

Info: "No Fit King," 20732 words. M/M. Rated E. No archive warnings apply.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33678622/chapters/83698879

Excerpt:

Xavier hated the spring cotillion. Hated the preparations for it, hated the formal uniforms, hated the dancing.

“You like dancing,” his brother said mildly. Frederick, blond and regal, sat behind what had once been their father’s desk, in his ornately-decorated study. Xavier sprawled in the velvet-padded chaise longue opposite, his boots still muddied from his morning ride.

Frederick shot the boots a pointed look, and Xavier pretended not to notice. “I like dancing,” Xavier said. “With other people who also like dancing. Not with courtesans who smell of too much perfume and always step on my toes.”

“It’s tradition,” Frederick said. The room was lined with portraits of previous Bayard regents, all of whom bore imperious glares that lent weight to Frederick’s words.

“Sod tradition,” Xavier retorted. “You’re in charge now. Cancel the spring cotillion. What’s the use of it, anyway?”

Frederick sighed, a full-bodied thing that expressed the depths of his disappointment, and Xavier tried not to resent him for it. It was the same sigh that Father used to give him, the one that said you’re not even trying, are you? He hadn’t cared for it then, and he didn’t care for it now.

“You know the use of it,” Frederick said. “Don’t be dense. And remove your feet from the furniture. You know Father would never have allowed it.”

Xavier rolled his eyes. “Then Father shouldn’t have died in a carriage accident, should he?” he said, more spitefully than he’d intended. He swung his boots down off the furniture as a peace offering. “Besides, who needs a wife?” he said. “You’ve got by without one for a year.”

“Xavier,” Frederick said, a line forming between his eyes like an oncoming thundercloud.

Xavier was not an actual idiot, and he knew the law as well as his brother did. The empire was bound up in traditions like a ball of tangled string, all knots and twists every which way you pulled. And the particular tangle that Frederick was caught in was that he couldn’t become king until he’d taken a wife. Until then, he was stuck being Crown Prince Regent. Well and good enough, except that nobody wanted to make treaties or alliances with a Crown Prince Regent.

This cotillion would be the third such event they’d held since their parents’ deaths, and Frederick’s failure to find a wife was starting to be talked about. Xavier was a veteran eavesdropper, and he’d heard the gossip. A kingdom without a king is no kingdom at all, they’d said. He’s dragging his feet out of grief, poor boy, but it’s well past time to move on.

If Frederick were any less handsome or charming or regal, there likely would have been a far greater outcry about the delay. But he was handsome and charming and regal. He had their father’s golden hair and broad shoulders and their mother’s outgoing nature. Everyone loved Frederick.

And I’m the lucky spare, Xavier thought, his lips twisting into a humorless smile. Born to be kept in the wings just in case the golden child... fell off a tower or drowned in a lake or something. Frederick had been born to rule; Xavier had been born as understudy for a role he didn’t even want to play.

Sometimes Xavier wished he could hate his brother. It should have been easy, given their positions. But Frederick was good. He was thoughtful, clever, kind. The worst Xavier could say about him was that he never had very much time for Xavier these days. But even that was understandable; there was a lot of work in learning to run a kingdom, not to mention in finding a wife. It didn’t leave a lot of time for one’s younger brother.

“Just pick one of the ones you’ve already met,” Xavier said. He was treading on thin ice here; this was not a topic that Frederick liked to discuss, and usually not one that Xavier liked to bring up. But Xavier did genuinely despise the spring cotillion, and there had been quite a bevy of courtesans and noblewomen sent for Frederick’s approval already. “Some of them have been pretty enough,” he added.

Frederick sighed, massaging his temples with his fingers. “It’s not just about being pretty,” he said. “The other person has to be a partner in ruling the kingdom. They have to be clever, thoughtful, and—and someone the king can spend his life with. Someone—” He expelled a long breath and stared into the distance, leaving the sentence unfinished.

There were dark circles beneath Frederick’s eyes. Xavier frowned. Perhaps he and his brother had grown even more distant than he’d realized, for him not to have seen how heavy this burden weighed on him.

“I’m sorry,” Frederick said, noticing Xavier’s expression. “I’ve been reading a lot lately. It takes its toll.”

Xavier glanced at the towering pile of tomes on Frederick’s desk, many of them in foreign languages. Frederick had always had a penchant for reading dusty treatises on history and philosophy, but if he’d really been making his way through that entire stack...well, that sort of thing would give anyone dark circles, Xavier supposed.

In an effort to lift the mood, Xavier said, “You know, you can have some of my offers if you like.”

Frederick’s head snapped upward. “You’ve had offers?” he asked, his ice-blue eyes narrow and piercing. “When? From whom?”

#my writing #original fiction #original work #my fanfiction #it's not fanfiction but that's the tag I use for all my writing and i'm just trying to keep stuff in one place

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wildmichaelflower · 4 years

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This is Halloween

Word count: 1.4k

Prompt: Person A's kid gets sick right before Halloween and can't go, so Person B goes for them.

Author's Note: this was for the October fic event! I was so happy to work with other authors to produce Halloween inspired fics, and I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist for the Event!

Genre: fluff

Pairings: single parent!Michael x Single parent!reader

Your son, Xavier, had been feeling less energetic than his usual self the last few days before Halloween. You did your best to help him recover so he would be able to go out for candy that Saturday night, but on Friday he woke up with a low grade fever, and all hopes to go out were dashed. You texted his best friend's father, Michael, to let him know the two of you would not be joining him and his daughter, Quinn to trick or treat.

Michael was disappointed, he looked forward to the four of you going out, but nothing was close to the distraught his four year old felt.

"But we got matching costumes and everything daddy! Why can't Xavier join?!" She pouted from her car seat, Michael choosing to break the news as he drove her to daycare.

"I know sweetheart," he sighed, "But Xavier's not feeling good, and his mommy's worried he'll feel worse if he goes out, or you'll get sick."

She maintained her pout, but nodded, beginning to understand.

"But I have an idea that will make it seem like he's with us, I just gotta talk to his mommy ok?"

She nodded, then smiled, "OK daddy! Can he still wear his Clifford costume?"

Michael chuckled, the idea of two kids running around the neighborhoods as characters from the cartoon still funny to him.

"We'll see what his mommy says ok?" He pulled into the parking lot before going to get her out, "And you're ok with him being Clifford, it is your last name." He grinned, holding her on his hip and carrying her backpack.

"Yes daddy," she sighed dramatically, as though she's explained it too many times, "I'm a Clifford every day, so I don't need to be one for Halloween, and Emily Elizabeth has blonde hair, like us." She smiled.

Michael smiled and nodded, reflecting on how much her daughter looked like him. She was practically a mini him, but she got her mother's dimples. He still missed his ex occasionally, but she wasn't ready for motherhood and Michael respected her wishes. It helped that she stuck to her promise to send birthday and Christmas gifts, but it was hard to explain to someone so young why they didn't have a mommy and daddy like other children. He was grateful to his friends for helping out in the early days, but when he wanted to record full time again the daycare was his saving grace. He was worried about the implications of getting Quinn a nanny, and he wanted her to have social experience with other kids her age. It was also wonderful for him to hear that many other children were in single parent homes.

That's where he met you, or rather, Quinn met Xavier and the two forced their parents to meet. It was a pleasant introduction of course, and Michael was ecstatic that his daughter had made a friend so quick. When he arrived to pick her up after her first Friday, he found her hiding under the slides with a young boy, who had a woman pleading with him to come out.

"Xavier, please, we need to go home. I'm happy you're having fun with friends, and we'll see them on Monday, but your father will be waiting for you."

"Nope!" The young boy crossed his arms, "Quinn said her daddy said she's staying home after today. If we don't go home the day doesn't end."

Michael bit his lip, wondering where Quinn heard him say that and ducked almost uncomfortably low to speak to his daughter.

"Quinn, where did you hear me say that? I said you'll stay home for the weekend, but you'll be back on Monday."

Quinn gasped, surprised to hear her father's voice and quickly turned to him.

"I get to come back? Really?!" She crawled out of her hiding spot before wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Yes really, silly goose." He teased and tickled her sides, lifting her as he turned to you, watching as you lifted your son to your hip, "Sorry for the trouble that caused, she sometimes half hears the conversation, a trait she unfortunately gets from me," he admitted sheepishly.

You shook your head and smiled, "No worries. This rascal always tells me how much fun he's had since your daughter started." You blew a raspberry against his cheek, grinning as he giggled at the feeling.

Michael beamed, happy his daughter was adjusting so well, and asked to exchange numbers with you, mainly to schedule play dates. Over time, he learned you were also a single parent but remained friendly with Xavier's father, who he spent every other weekend with. Eventually, the two men met and Xavier's father was also more than happy to allow play dates between the two.

Michael clocked his daughter in as she put her belongings in her cubby, gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek, before watching her head off to play, smiling at all the kids in their costumes. Getting back in his car, he called you to explain his idea to bring Xavier trick or treating.

The next night, Xavier was dressed in his costume laying under blankets on the couch. A day of rest did him some good, but he was not ready to go out. Luckily, Michael and Quinn would collect candy for him. When Michael called the day before, you had just gotten your son back to sleep. He explained that he could facetime with you and collect candy for Xavier, while he sat at home on the other end, allowing the children to be together that night, in a way. You thought it was brilliant, and with Xavier gaining more energy by the next morning, you knew he wouldn't be against the idea either.

You brought him a bowl of chicken noodle soup, smiling as Michael began to facetime you.

"Is that Quinn?" Xavier asked, small amounts of broth slipping from his mouth.

"Yes honey," you cleaned him with a napkin before accepting the call, holding the phone so you two were in the screen.

"Hi Xavier!" The young girl giggled excitedly, "Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah!" Your son smiled, "I eat soup and cuddle with my mommy."

You smiled, seeing Michael as he held Quinn's hand but didn't interrupt the children's conversation. Soon, they approached the first house, Quinn shouting trick or treat, and Xavier echoing behind her.

"Oh my, is this Emily Elizabeth?" An older woman smiled, before turning to the phone confused, "And is that Clifford at home?"

"Yep!" Quinn smiled before explaining the situation the best way a four year old can before concluding, "And my daddys holding Xavier's bucket, and we'll drop it off when we're all done."

The woman smiled understandingly and placed a piece of candy in Quinns bucket before allowing her to take one for Xavier.

"Careful now dear, chocolate can make dogs sick," she joked, to which Quinn giggled.

"Not this puppy! If his mommy let him he would only eat chocolate," she smiled and dropped a mini snickers into the bucket in Michaels hands.

He cleared his throat, "What do we say now dear?"

"Thank you!" Quinn beamed, giggling as Xavier repeated her.

Michael and Quinn continued through his neighborhood before driving to your ex's, making the final stop your neighborhood. They didn't get too many houses, however, before Quinn was asking to be carried, and as he made his way up the steps, you laid your exhausted son into his bed.

Michael's knock on your door brought you back to the living room, and your heart melted at the sight of a sleeping Quinn on Michael's shoulder, Michael passing you one of the two completely filled basket.

"Thank you, for making this night easier for Xavier," you smiled as you placed the basket on the entry table.

"Of course. Halloween only comes once a year, and with modern technologies, not even illness should stop the fun." He grinned, carefully shifting Quinn.

You nodded, "Hopefully Xavier will be better in a few days, and we can take photos of them together before he goes to his dad's."

Michael nodded, "They'll love that," he bit his lip, "and maybe on the day Xaviers back at school we can get breakfast?"

You blushed, looking up at him, "Is that a date Michael?"

He smiled sheepishly before nodding, "If you'd like it to be, yeah."

"Yes, I would love to go on a date with you, as long as we dont get the bug. Theres nothing romantic about getting sick on the first date."

He chuckled, "Yeah.. I'll be looking forward to a healthy, happy date," he winked, "but for now, I gotta get little missy here into pajamas and bed."

You laughed lightly and nodded, "drive home safe, and I look forward to seeing you next week."

#5 seconds of summer #michael clifford #5sos writings #5sos fic #michael clifford writings #michael clifford fic #single dad!sos #michael clifford x reader #halloween!sos #october fic event

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i-drink-and-i-write-fics · 3 years

Text

Bringing Worlds Together

Chapter 6: Old Friends Meet New

Summary: The Avengers and the X-Men meet to see if it’s possible to join forces for the future.

The next morning, Everett and I walked into the main area of the Avengers’ Compound. The people I met yesterday were already there along with the ones missing: Natasha Romanov, Sam Wilson, James Rhodes, James Barnes, Thor, and even Loki! The two Odin boys jumped up at the sight of me and each took turns hugging me.

“Lady Rose! It has been far too long!” Thor’s voice boomed far too loud this early in the morning, but honestly I missed it. It had been at least 50 years since I last saw these two.

“Hello, darling.” Loki purred, as he hugged me and planted a kiss on my cheek. I never could stay mad at the trickster god, even after New York.

“Hello to you both! I’ve missed you! How are you? How’s Asgard? Frigga and Odin?” The boys exchanged a look. “What?”

“My lady, I have forgotten that it has been so long since our last meeting. My brother and I will have to speak with you later. There is much to cover.” Loki looked down as he spoke to me and I knew I was not in for a happy conversation.

Just then the doors opened and Professor Xavier and the rest of the group from our meeting the other day walked in, minus Wade which was a smart move. Clearly we were in for a seriously long meeting. Charles rolled over to be by the couch where Jean, Scott, and Hank sat. Colossus, Cable, and Logan opted to stand against the wall next to the couch and I quickly followed their lead, standing next to Logan. While I barely caught Everett’s look of disappointment from not sitting next to him, I full on caught Cable giving me the once over, his cybernetic eye flashing at me. I always thought the time traveler had a thing for me, but he was smart enough to keep his mouth shut considering he and Logan were sorta friends. Honestly, if Logan wasn’t around I may have considered it. But giving that half of his body was covered in the TO virus, I don’t think he would last long against my mutation.

Charles waited until everyone had found a spot before he began to speak. “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us. And for allowing Rose to stay with you. She has been a long time friend of mine and I felt she would be best to help conduct this experiment.”

“I would agree, except she threatened to beat me with one of my own suits.” Tony was slouched back in a chair, looking sharp in a button up and slacks. As annoying as that man is, he did know how to dress. His dad had the same annoying habit.

“If I remember correctly, Mr. Stark, you managed to find a way to hit on me no less than 6 times in the span of the 20 minutes since I got there, then proceeded to insult the CIA agent that was here as well for the experiment. Frankly, you got off easily.”

“Since when do you defend any government agents?”

“I only attack them when they come after me. Agent Ross hadn’t done anything to you or me.”

“I knew it! You did sleep together!”

Logan tensed up at this and I tried to remain calm. “Mr. Stark, for the last time, my personal life is none of your fucking business.”

“Mr. Stark, if I may.” Jean finally spoke up, no doubt saving Tony’s life. “We need to stay focused. Tensions between the mutant and human community have been high for many centuries. We are trying to find a peaceful solution to all this. The recent addition of….enhanced humans haven’t helped the tensions at all.”

Wanda tentatively spoke up. “Are you saying mutants hate us?”

I took over then. “Not you, per say. The government for creating you. For many years mutants have begged and pleaded to be part of main stream society. We’re tired of hiding. Instead, the government wanted to either lock us up or have us under a registry. And in place of us, they created you. Captain America, White Wolf, Scarlet Witch, and Quicksilver. They chose to build/create you instead of utilizing what was already under their noses. And the ones that they do want to recognize, they want to use as weapons only. That’s why you’ll never see that many mutants just running around. Why you’ll never find half the ones that are seen as myths and legends. We’re tired of hiding but we don’t want to be used anymore.”

“Humans can change. It has been proven. We just need the chance.”

“No, Dr. Banner. Humans can’t. Not easily any way. If you have any doubts about that, ask anyone of color or from the LGBT community about how well humans change for them. Or just look at history. Like the witch trials of Europe and America.”

I visibly shuddered at Jean’s words, remembering how I almost died all those years ago. Logan put his arm around me and Everett looked away. Cable just scowled.

“So what do we do?”

Xavier spoke up. “We need to take things slowly. Rose will be here to teach you as much of the mutant culture as she can. She will also bring you to the school later in the year to meet the children, to show you we are not a threat. We just want our place in society.”

“And the mutants that don’t want that?” Steve’s voice was slightly cold at this. My guess was they finally came across Magneto and his group.

“We take care of them. It’s our job. We will show the world that we acknowledge the ones that are making us look bad and will handle it in an appropriate manner.”

Very slowly, each Avenger nodded approval at this plan. They came around the room and shook hands to seal the deal, stopping to take a long look at Cable’s half robotic body and Colossus all armored up. As Charles spoke more in depth with Tony, Everett, and Rhodes, Hank motioned for Logan and I to follow him outside.

Once outside, I reveled in the fresh fallen snow and cool breeze. I hated being locked inside for more than 24 hours. This was going to be tough for me. “Alright, Hank. Out with it. What did you find out?”

“Well I have good news and bad news.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Logan. “Alright. Good news first.”

“You are not poisoning anyone. In fact, you are trying to heal them.”

“I’m sorry, roll that by me again?”

“When your mutation seems to be harming someone, you are actually trying to heal them. Or rather, trying to make them live as long as you.”

I stood there with my mouth opened for a minute. “That….doesn’t make any sense. I’m trying to heal people while having sex with them?!”

Hank blushed at my bluntness. “No, no. You see, when you fall in love with someone, your mutation is trying to create a….mate for you, for a lack of better term. You actually attempt to pass your healing to them, not just while intimate, but at all times. Whenever you touch that other person, you are trying to pass on your ability to heal so they can live as long as you. Unfortunately, the people are not able to absorb your powers and so their body starts to reject it. It happens faster after you are intimate because…..”

“Right, we touch a lot more. I got it.” I shook my head. “Ok, what’s the bad news.”

“Logan isn’t compatible with you.”

I felt like my heart was just ripped out of my chest. “What?”

“He’s not compatible. He already has his own healing system, but it’s been compromised by the radiation and adamantium poisoning in his body. His body is constantly trying to fight off both poisonings. When he was younger, he was able to fight off your mutation as well. But now, the other poisonings are slowly winning and your mutation is speeding up the process. If you two stay together, instead of Logan having a possible 100 years more of life, it could be as little as 10.”

I was falling into a deep, dark hole. The man who had been my constant, my flame, was now going to die by my hands.

Logan spoke up for the first time. “Do you think anyone could be compatible with her?”

“It’s possible. We’re still not 100% sure why the bodies are rejecting her mutation. Unless they weren’t in love as well and they need to be. We will glad test anyone else for you, Rose. When you’re ready for such a thing.”

I just nodded my head and Hank went back inside to collect the team to leave. As I chewed on a finger nail, I look at the woods just beyond the compound. I had an overwhelming desire to run straight ahead, not stopping till I hit the arctic circle. But I knew I was needed here. My world was just pulled out from under me, and I had to sit here and play nice.

Logan finally spoke to me. “You won’t lose me, kid. Yeah, maybe it can’t be what we want, but that won’t stop me from being at your side like always.”

Tears began to stream down my face. “I know.”

“And when you’re ready, I’ll help you find someone.”

“Knowing my luck, it’ll probably end up being Stark.”

“I would rather you end up with Cable before him.”

I laughed at that. “Eh, his TO would probably get his disqualified.”

Logan was silent for a beat. “What about the pilot?”

“That was 20 years ago. Humans aren’t like us. I have no doubt he has moved on.” I turned around and walked back into the compound, refusing to look Logan in the face one last time so I wouldn’t burst into tears further than already.

Chapter 7

#fanfic #fan fic #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bringing worlds together #if you could live together #logan howlett #logan howlett x original female character #everett ross #everett ross x original female character #original female character #wolverine #angst

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teamfreewilllover · 5 years

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Almost Lover: Part 5 - Xavier Plympton Imagine

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Y/N almost jumped out of her skin when Brooke came rushing through the front door, covered in mud and screaming bloody murder.

“He’s trying to kill me! It was Mr Jingles, it was him!” Brooke cried, as she ran over to the back door to lock it.

Y/N gulped as Trevor, a crowbar in hand and Chet bravely made their way to the front door and ripped it open.

“No, no! He’s right outside!” Brooke screamed, as the boys leaned out and looked around.

“I don’t see anything. There’s nobody out here!” Trevor exclaimed, as he shon his light towards the forest.

“Jesus...” Y/N mumbled, breathing a sigh of relief.

It was then that she realised at some point she must have grabbed Xavier’s hand, as she felt his warm palm against her own. Xavier seemed to recognise this as well, as he quickly pulled his hand away, much to Y/N’s disappointment.

“Are you sure it was Mr Jingles?” Ray inquired, clearly not believing Brooke.

“Hasn’t he been locked up since like the 70’s?” Xavier pointed out.

“I know it was him. He murdered the hiker and cut off his ear” Brooke told them, as Y/N grimaced.

“C’mon then, let’s go” Y/N announced, picking up a flashlight.

“What?” Xavier frowned, as everyone turned to look at Y/N.

“There’s only one way to know if there’s really a murderer stalking the camp or if Brooke’s just lost her mind...no offence, Brooke” Y/N explained.

“A little offence taken” Brooke mummured, crossing her arms.

“You can’t be serious! It’s too dangerous” Xavier insisted.

“Chet will come with me, won’t you Chet?” Y/N exclaimed, turning to the man, who’s eyes widened.

“Uh...yeah?” Chet replied, gulping when he saw Xavier’s angry expression.

“I never said I wouldn’t come...I just said it was dangerous” Xavier pouted.

“C’mon blondie, you can hold my hand if you get really scared” Y/N teased, as she grabbed his arm and began to drag him after her.

Xavier rolled his eyes fondly, feeling much less afraid than he had moments before. With a sigh, the others began to follow them, not wanting to split up the group.

No one was surprised when they went to medical and found no dead hiker or killer lurking in the shadows. But Y/N couldn’t help but feel unerved, remembering the jingling keys she had heard earlier. While the other girls all slept soundly, Y/N found herself tossing and turning for hours. So she did what she always did when she couldn’t sleep. She found Xavier on the couch, and laid her head down on his lap, as he began stroking her hair softly. He placed his hand against her shoulder, bringing her closer to him as he remembered all the times they had had stayed in the position.

“So, what’s going on with you two?” Trevor inquired, as Y/N pretended to be asleep.

“What do you mean?” Xavier frowned.

“I mean your not just friends, right?” Trevor clarified, as Xavier’s fingers stilled against Y/N’s hair.

“We’re not just friends. She’s my best friend” Xavier retorted.

“That’s bullshit. You have a serious heart boner for her, man. It’s obvious” Trevor pointed out, as Xavier’s eyes widened.

“Hey, not so loud” Xavier hushed, as he looked down to check Y/N was still sleeping.

“Don’t bother, Trevor. They’ve been running around each other for years” Chet informed him.

“Look even if I did like Y/N, which I’m not saying I do!...It’s never going to happen” Xavier shook his head.

“Why not?” Trevor queried.

“She’s eighteen. She’s too young for me” Xavier insisted.

“That’s barely a five year age difference. I’ve fucked girls younger than her” Ray shrugged, as everyone turned to look at him.

“Ew, dude” Chet grimaced.

“She’s only just finished school. It’d be wrong for me to make a move” Xavier sighed.

“Well I guess it won’t matter for much longer anyway” Trevor stated, as he took a sip of his beer.

“Why’d you say that?” Xavier frowned.

“She’s leaving for college, right? She’ll move on pretty quickly” Trevor suggested, hiding a smirk, as he saw Xavier’s sad expression.

Y/N tried to keep as still as possible, and not give away she had been awake the whole time. Xavier liked her?

Y/N was barely paying attention as Brooke started to freak out about the murder of the gas attendant they had met earlier in the day. Her mind was running at a mile a minute, going over what Xavier had said. Did he really like her? Was her age the only thing that was keeping them apart?

“Oh my god. He’s coming after me” Brooke panicked.

“And this is a different killer from the killer on the phone? The one with the keys?” Xavier mocked her, as the other all laughed.

A spiteful part of Y/N couldn’t help but be happy that Xavier’s interest in Brooke seemed to be dwindling by the second.

“I’m not making this up!” Brooke insisted.

“Boys and girls together after dark” A voice boomed from behind Y/N, who jumped at the sound.

“God, don’t do that!” Y/N exclaimed, clutching at her heart.

“Don’t blaspheme!” Margaret scolded her, as Y/N rolled her eyes.

Y/N found herself zoning out as usual as Margaret began to preach. The woman seriously liked the sound of her own voice, Y/N thought to herself. Before she knew it, the boys were being ushered out of the room, meaning Y/N still hadn’t got a chance to talk to Xavier on his own.

“Are you going to make us pray the boners away?” Xavier mocked, as he walked towards the door.

“A clean body is a clean mind. How many times do I have to go over the rules? Boys shower at night, no exceptions. Now go wash the filfth off so you can wake up clean and pure for morning prayer” Margaret ordered, snatching the beer out of his hand.

“She is seriously nuts” Y/N mumbled, as Xavier and Margaret left the cabin.

“Margaret has got to get laid otherwise it’s going to be a long summer” Montana joked, as Y/N laughed.

“Speaking of getting laid, I’m sneaking out. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” Y/N winked at Montana, who looked impressed.

“Go get that dick, Y/N!” Montana cheered her on, as Y/N grinned, and quielty opened the back door, running off into the night.

Y/N was confused when she saw Xavier walking away from the rest of the boys. It seemed like he was walking back to the cabin, when suddenly someone grabbed him and pulled him into the bushes. Y/N was about to jump forward to help Xavier, when he seemed to recognise who had attacked him. He followed a middle aged man towards an expensive looking car, not seeming particularly distressed. Y/N hid in the shadows, trying to make out what was happening in the car, when Xavier suddenly stormed out. The man grabbed him by the neck and pulled him to the ground, rolling on top of him.

“Hey!” Y/N screamed, as she ran forward and lunged at the man.

She dragged him off of Xavier, and punched the man squarely in jaw, sending him onto his back. She cried out as she held her fist to her chest, which was now painfully throbbing.

“What the hell is going on?” Y/N questioned, as she rushed over to Xavier and helped him sit up.

“It’s a long story” Xavier sighed.

“You little bitch-” The man growled, as he wiped blood off his lip.

“Wait, Blake! What if I said I had someone better to replace me? Bigger, way bigger” Xavier exclaimed, as he pushed himself in front of Y/N protectively.

“Where?” Blake inquired, as stood up.

“The showers...I’ll show you” Xavier answered, as Blake nodded.

“Lead the way” He announced, as Xavier pushed himself to his feet.

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what this is all about!” Y/N insisted, as she grabbed his arm.

“I’ll tell you on the way. C’mon, trust me” Xavier pleaded, as he held out his hand for her to take.

“You know I do” Y/N sighed, as she placed her hand in his own, and he pulled her upright.

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or have any ideas for the next part!

Tag list: @baptizedinfire @sweetgoodangel @bedazzled-bandit-ban @avacadontyoudare @cheshirecat107 @fandoms-allovertheplace @theeonlyroman @anoud1970 @mysterious-adventurer @littlelimonchik @delightful-pirate @grippleback-galaxy @molethemollie @rachelle3musicals @shadesofbarryallen @vixi3303 @mostawkwardperson101 @freeshavocadoooo @chris-parkers @yady24 @miskwaadesiwag @isletsoflou-gerhans @thefandomzoneisdangerous @trickei @catastrophicneed @rainbowmagicpixecorn @alexandrathegreat3 @gorgeousmisery @quacksonbarnes @btsarmygirl417 @rhiannon-the-troublemaker @yn-yes-from-the-imagines @faith-alons26 @uwonman @kellysimagines @psychobitchtess @thexmancometh @snarkyanimecartooncop @ace-fiction @anon-1112 @perfect-ginger-maniac @professionalunicorn15 @jetblackpayne @ren-ni @luna-xxxxx @courtcourt2607 @fuck-yeah-bruno-buccerati @myluciferiscody @codyl-angdon @deadly-unicornius @rubbrninja @shydragonrider @aangrana @tvdplusriverdale @soph3218 @devastatinglyjoey @psychoticobsession @hecatemacbeth7 @sweetgoodangel @tabloidteen

#ahs 1984 #xavier plympton #xavier plympton imagines #xavier plympton x reader #xavier plympton imagine

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valkyrieofsmut · 4 years

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Cowboy!Kurt’s Mail Order Bride

Cowboy!Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x Mutant!OC

Descriptions: Old westAU In about 1900 Germany, Kurt has heard stories about the wild west and dreamt about being a cowboy for a long time. When he’s brought over to America and sent to live with Logan he’s excited, until he learns what hard work a ranch actually is. Logan knows a woman will set him straight from his shenanigans, and brings one back. Kurt hopes for love, but they can’t seem to get along.

A/n- I watched the (1964) western movie “Mail Order Bride” and thought it would be hilarious to make a story and stick our favorite blue fuzzy man in! Also... He’s kind of a whiny brat in the beginning... because that’s where he had to be to have character growth! lol.

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Story!

Kurt laid in the back of the wagon, looking up at the night sky as they traveled toward the new place he would be living.

New York.

It was a large city in America, but he was hoping that it still had some of its western charm.

A lot of books about the west had recently come to Germany for him to read, stories of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, wild outlaws, good lawmen, genteel ladies…

He smiled as the thought came to mind that he may meet one of them.

The smile turned to a frown, however, when he looked at the three fingered hand he lifted up to look at against the sky.

Not only three fingered, but blue in the light, and invisible in the dark, except to his yellow-eyed night vision.

He turned over and looked where Hank, a large man wearing a pair of glasses, was laying back, napping, and he wondered if it was something learned here, since he’d traveled all the time with the circus, but had never been able to sleep, since they all stayed awake in order to set up camp as soon as they landed.

Or maybe it was the time difference since traveling across the ocean to America.

He pulled his well worn German copy of “Tales of the wild west” from his bag and started reading.

The sun shone down into Kurt’s eyes, waking him, and he saw that they had stopped moving. He sat up and looked around over the edge of the wagon, seeing a rather large spread of land, larger than what they’d take for the circus, even. He looked around further and saw Hank talking to a man in a wheelchair at the door of what he could only describe as a mansion.

Kurt hopped out of the back and made his way to the door, knowing that Scott and Jean had probably already gone to “freshen up” or whatever it was city folk did after a journey.

As he got to the door, Kurt had his eyes down and pulled on his hat so he didn’t have to see the shock/ disturbance in the man he was sure was the Professor’s face as he saw him for the first time, and followed the other two men inside.

“Hello, Kurt. We are glad to have you here, are you excited to be in America?” The Professor asked.

“Certainly,” he answered. “I have heard a lot of the cowboys here, and it has become my dream to be one as well.”

The Professor chuckled. “We don’t have many cowboys around these settlements anymore, mostly settlers.”

Kurt frowned, his hand holding his bag against him tightly.

Logan was at the feed store, putting in an order when a woman came from the general store next door.

“Oh, Mr. Logan, I’m glad you haven’t left yet, someone is on the line for you,” she told him, looking a tiny bit harried, but also interested in the happenings of whatever was going on.

Logan looked up, wondering who it could be and threw two dollars on the counter. “Just load it up,” he told the man before following the woman next door.

“It’s right back here,” she showed him, making sure the phone was working correctly before she left.

“Yeah?” He asked into the phone.

“Logan, thank goodness. It’s Xavier. Listen, I’ve taken in a young man- I’m not sure what to do with him.”

“Sounds rough Professor, where do I come in?”

“Well, I was hoping- He is very disappointed that there are no cowboys around here, he wants to be one desperately, I suppose.”

There was a pause as Logan didn’t say anything.

“I was thinking; your ranch is away from town quite a ways- he is affected physically- and it’s more like what he was hoping for-”

The Professor’s voice was a little tight, and Logan knew it wasn’t for only those reasons that he wanted to bring the new mutant there.

“I don’t know Professor, if he can’t hack it at city life, he ain’t gonna survive ranch life.”

“I think he would enjoy it much more, Logan, just being there,” came the pressing answer. “And, I will, of course, help with expenses if he needs anything.”

“Well… Suppose I could use a ranch hand. But I ain’t going easy on him.”

Logan could practically hear the relief in the Professor’s voice as he said that someone would be around with him shortly.

Shortly was a relative term when a simple trip to town could take a day, several hours, or just a few, depending on your mode of transport, and it was a mite bit farther from New York to where he was.

Logan raised a brow, but shrugged it off as he hung up the phone.

He finished his shopping around town and climbed back onto the wagon before turning his team back to home.

He was surprised to see a figure standing on his porch, and only relaxed after he could tell that it was Hank.

“Howdy,” Hank greeted.

“Hey,” Logan responded. “How did you get here so fast?” He asked.

Hank smiled his easy smile. “The new boy is a teleporter, and he was very motivated to come here. Took him a few jumps, but we made extremely good time.”

“Yeah?” Logan snuffed, looking around. “Where is he?”

Hank gestured to the other side of the house. “Out back. Your dog gave us a greeting.”

“Hm. Get in,” Logan told Hank and they continued around the house to the back, stopping next to the barn.

Logan saw his fluffy shepard mix chasing a lithe blue figure back into the herd of cattle that mooed and called to each other.

Logan climbed down and stood on the fence for a moment before whistling to the dog and the young man followed the dog over. “Keel,” he told the dog and it laid down.

The blue man stood next to the fence, a huge grin across his face. “Hallo,” he greeted with German accent. “I was just playing with your dog, he is very nice.”

“He wasn’t playing,” Logan told him. “He was herding you.”

“What?” Kurt asked in surprise.

“Buck, tend,” Logan told the dog, and the dog jumped up and ran back to the herd. “He’s a herd dog. He protects them, and anything that’s not a threat in the fence that can be herded will be.”

Kurt blushed a little and looked away in embarrassment. “Oh…”

“So, you’re the one who wants to be a cowboy, huh?” Logan asked as Kurt easily slipped through the horizontal slats in the fence.

“Ja, very much,” he enthused. “My name is Kurt,” he held out his hand as he greeted his new mentor.

At least, he hoped he’d be his mentor, he certainly looked like a cowboy; a day’s growth on his face, muscles to spare from working his place, he had the boots, clothes, and hat. A real cowboy. He grinned at the man who was a little shorter than him, but he just got a grunt in reply.

“There’s no time for messin’ around here, we have to unload this wagon.”

Days passed and Kurt was exhausted.

“But, I want to be a real cowboy,” he complained. “With the gunfights, and stampeeds, and cattle drives, and riding a horse everywhere…”

Logan pounded on the horseshoe held by the other hand with a hammer. “Ain’t that romantic.”

“I thought I was moved here so that I could be like a cowboy, but you all lied to me! You just wanted me out here to hide me from the town! I was doing fine at that in Germany, they promised I’d get to be like a cowboy!” He whined as he teleported around the shed rapidly in aggravation.

“Knock it off,” Logan yelled, startling Kurt into stopping. “They sent you here because you need some training to be a man and not an annoying kid anymore.”

“What? I’m not annoying,” Kurt denied.

“Annoying me instead of doing your chores,” Logan told him.

Kurt huffed and teleported to the ground to kick a rock.

“Didn’t your mama teach you any manners?”

“Nein,” Kurt snapped at him sullenly.

“Hm,” he set down the things in his hands and switched tools to shoe the horse standing by the post. “Maybe that’s what you need, then.”

“What?”

“A woman to teach you how to behave like a man.”

“A woman?” Kurt asked.

Logan grunted in reply.

“How is a woman going to teach me how to act like a man? Is she a crossdresser?” Kurt asked as he burst out laughing.

“Think I’ll go find one,” Logan told him.

“Really?” Kurt questioned, growing serious.

Logan tossed his head yes as he finished with the horse.

“A genteel woman?” Kurt asked a bit softly.

“Yeah, sure. One that won’t put up with any cud from you,” Logan grumbled.

”When will you go?” Kurt asked, his voice a bit surer, now.

“Well, horse is shod. Could head out tomorrow, as long as you take care to milk the cow and don’t let yourself starve to death while I’m gone.”

Kurt lay awake in the room he’d been told to sleep in, his hands unable to stay in one place for long, flitting nervously from his view to clutching the blankets to him to touching the book laying in the bed next to him.

What would she look like?

How would she react to seeing him for the first time?

Would she be like the strict school marms he had read about, or more like a caring mother?

How old would she be?

His age, or older to be a mother figure?

If she was his age, would she like him, or even be able to look past how he looked?

Those questions and so many more rushed through his mind, unable to be quieted.

The next morning he walked out to see Logan off, surprised at the amount of things he was loading onto his horse.

“How long will it take to go into town?” Kurt asked.

“Can’t go into town for this,” Logan answered. “No one is going to let their daughter go out to my ranch alone with me to live. Besides, we need someone who isn’t connected with the town so that it doesn’t raise suspicion.”

“Oh… How far will you have to go?” Kurt asked.

“Couple of towns. Should be back by the end of the month.”

Kurt’s eyes widened. “What will I eat?” He asked.

Logan shrugged. “There’s enough canned stuff, jerky and cheese to last for about that long, coffee, the well is good, milk from the cow, and some bread as long as you eat it before it goes bad. If you get real hungry, there’s always the horse feed.”

Kurt looked irritated as Logan kicked the horse and took off.

“Huh,” he grumbled, turning to the fence and jumping it easily, despite it being as tall as him, running to the dog and chasing it around, playing and rolling around on the ground.

A/N- For the next chapter, I also have to make a special note that the oc’s name is Bethilde (beth - ill - duh), because I named her, and then realized later that her name is spelled the same as Bethilde (bet- ill- duh). Basically, it’s just the pronunciation of the h, but Beth is short for (beth - ill - duh) and Betty is short for (bet - ill - duh) lol.

#Kurt Wagner #kurt wagner x oc #Marvel AU #old west au #nightcrawler x oc #angst #mutant oc #romance #multipart story #X-men #x-men au #Rancher AU #Cowboy!Kurt Wagner #Cowboy!Nightcrawler #valkyrieofsmut

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multific · 5 years

Text

Always Been

Michael Langdon x Reader

Summary: Love was hard as it is, but when you fell in love with someone like Michael, your feelings get more complicated.

A/N: I have not watched any series of AHS, so if this is not accurate to the storyline, I’m sorry, think of it as an AU. I just saw Cody Fern and got inspired by his characters, so if any of you wish to see more of his characters (mainly Michael and Xavier), don’t be afraid to send in your feedback. Hope you like this! Enjoy~

You were in love with Michael, the Antichrist himself.

You met when his grandma, Constance committed suicide, you found him on the streets crying his eyes out.

And since then, the two of you were inseparable.

You saw him doing horrible, terrifying things. You saw him kill, you saw him eat human hearts. And yet, there was something behind all of this that you loved.

You still remember one night, when you realized that you were in love with the boy.

You were walking to his and Miriam’s house when a man attacked you and attempted to kidnap you. You struggled against the man’s hold. You cried for help, but no one came, fear settled in and that’s when he arrived, Michael separated you from the man and brutally killed him. You remember the rage on his face, you had to walk up to him and calm him down while Miriam got rid of the evidence.

As you stood behind him, your hand on his shoulder as they shook with anger. He was taking long and deep breaths like an animal.

“Michael, I’m fine.” you repeated that to him, not only to make him really believe it but you knew that your voice calmed him down.

“I can’t lose you.” he whispered and he hugged you, with his body covered in blood, with you crying from fear and relief, you knew, this wasn’t a matter of friendship to you anymore. Your feelings were much deeper than that.

You were there when he was told about his true identity as the Antichrist.

You weren’t a couple, much to your disappointment, since you decided to hide your feelings from him. You thought that he didn’t need any more complications in his life.

Planning the apocalypse was already a hard task.

Even if Michael could read minds, he still promised to never read yours, that’s why he didn’t know about your feelings.

And now, you were living in Outpost 3 with him.

He changed so much during the past years. But towards you, he was the same. When both of you got Miriam back, that’s when all his confidence came back truly.

“I finally have all my family back.” is what he said.

You were devastated.

You spent so many years, supporting him, loving him, caring for him, and all he saw you was a sister-figure?

You were both angry and sad.

During dinner, you always sat on Michael’s right side. He excused himself to leave the room and that’s when you decided to go to sleep earlier than usual. Making up an excuse that you didn’t feel good.

You left the dining room before Michael could return.

You went up to your room and took a long bath. Not only half an hour later there was a knock.

“Y/N? Are you in there?”

Of course, it was Michael. But he did sound worried.

“Yes. I’m in the bath so don’t come in.” you said, trying not to sound suspicious.

“Okay, Ms. Mead told me you did feel well. Are you sick? Do you need medicine?”

“No, thank you. I think I’m just tired. I will go to bed shortly.”

“I still want to make sure that you are not ill. Call for me when you are done in there.”

“There’s no need for that!” you called out but you knew, he was already gone or he ignored your words.

He always liked to get worried about you.

You let out a long sigh.

You put your head against the bathtub and looked at the ceiling. Thoughts immediately flooding into your mind.

This one-sided love won’t lead anywhere. I need to either leave or forget. Who am I kidding I could never leave him. So, I need to find someone else to love… You thought about all the possibilities that were available, but you made a face of disgust. No one could compare to Michael.

When you got out of the bath and dressed up, with a shaky hand you opened the door to your bedroom, you expected him to be sitting on your bed, waiting for you, but no one was there.

Michael got really worried when you got sick, let it be a simple cold or a twisted ankle, he was always the worrywart. And since he never got sick, he was your personal nurse on one or two occasions.

Then you remembered that you are supposed to call for him, so that’s why he wasn’t there. Maybe he was doing an interview or some satanic stuff. Who knows?

But instead of doing what he asked you to do, you got under your warm covers and went to sleep.

You had a dream.

A wonderful and sweet dream of Michael and you. In your dream you were on a balcony with him, just watching as the sun came up. You knew that it wasn’t a memory. You looked at him and he smiled back at you, the lights from the sun illuminating his perfect blonde locks.

You got woken up from your gorgeous dream by someone touching your forehead.

Your eyes opened and you slowly got used to the darkness in the room. You saw Michael sitting on your bed with his palm against your forehead.

“You didn’t call for me.” he answered a question you never asked. “I came to check if you are sick or not.”

“I’m fine,” you told him trying to shake his handoff. You badly wanted to go back to your dream, so you closed your eyes, but his voice made you open them once again.

“You are not. Physically, yes. You are more than healthy, but I’m worried about what’s going on in there.” he said as he pointed at your forehead.

“I told you, I’m fine. I just feel exhausted, this whole end of the world is a bit much. And people here… I don’t really like them.”

“Understandable. They are all idiots and they are no fun either. But only if you’d let me look into your head for a second, maybe I’d understand better. I could be a lot more help.” it’s not like Michael needed approval from anyone. But you were different.

“No! That’s- no. You promised me you never would.” you said sitting up in your bed and looking at him with a serious face.

“I know. But I’m really worried. I cannot lose you.”

“You won’t, I promise. I’m fine. I just need to sleep.” you said and tried to convince him with a reassuring smile. But he didn’t look convinced. He just looked at barely blinking. Since you were still a bit tired from your sleep, you laid back and looked at the ceiling. Trying not to think of anything.

“Is this about Ms Mead? I know you don’t like the idea of an android bu-“

“No, that’s not it,” you said letting out a sigh.

“Then help me understand.”

“I can’t. If I say it, it might ruin everything. You might hate me or leave me.”

“That will never happen and you know that. Tell me, Y/N. I know this is not new with you. I have seen you many times just looking into nothing letting out a big sigh and nearly cry.”

He noticed?

It was true, you liked to overthink stuff, but you always tried to do it alone and hoped he would never notice. Like the time a girl flirted with him. You were so sad that Ms Mead ended up sacrificing the girl just so you will get better. Which you did, even with the circumstances.

“Just, tell me, please. I’m so desperate, I try to make you happy, I got Miriam back, and now I’m on the edge of losing you and I don’t even know why.”

You were afraid to look at him, you knew that if you’d meet his eyes, it would be over for you. But you needed to give him a proper explanation.

“Promise me. That even if you reject me, don’t send me away.” you said and he sat you up to hold you close to his chest.

“Why would I?”

“I love you.” you said it, but something in you told you that he didn’t understand it so you explained yourself, while you were still hugging him. “I fell in love with you the day we met and only realized it when you saved me from that lunatic. I have been hiding my feelings for so long. Miriam helped me though. She knew about how I felt, said she saw my feelings in my eyes. And I’m so afraid that you only see me as a sister or friend, when I feel so deeply for you.” you slowly let go of him but you still didn’t look at him only when he placed his finger under your chin to make you look into his eyes.

He never, ever looked at you so deeply. He had a serious face on and when he saw a tear roll down your eye, his thumb was quick to catch it.

“I broke my promise.” he said. And you were confused for a second but when you realized what he was talking about, you shoved him back.

“You-No.”

“I needed to know if you were telling me the truth or just what I wanted to hear.”

“What you wanted to…What are you talking about?”

“I knew that I was in love the moment I looked into your eyes. I was still a boy, crying in a dark alley and then you came, an angel, to save me. Your voice, your eyes and your gentle heart. I thought I would never deserve it, which I probably don’t. But hearing you say this. Makes me more than just hopeful and happy. Seeing your memories… here let me show you mine.” he said as he placed his palm against your head, closing his eyes.

Pure confusion is what you felt, but then you started to see pictures, his memories.

You saw yourself, the way he saw you, you felt his emotions all the confusion, nervousness, self-doubt, and finally, love. Love as pure as a man like him can feel.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked, you placed your forehead against his.

“Looks like, both of us are idiots.”

“Seems like it. So, are you mine now, My Queen?” he asked.

“I had always been.”

And with that he leant in to seal your deal with his lips. Such wonderful lips he had, soft and just the right amount of full and warm.

That night, for the first time in a long while, you set your head against his chest and fell asleep, knowing that when you wake up in the morning, he’d be still there, holding you, kissing you, loving you.

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etherealsinners · 4 years

Text

where: lux nightclub.

who: charles ft. dr. brain xavier & sharon xavier.

mentions: ft. erik lehnserr.

triggers: death mentions.

tdlr: charles sees his parents and receives some wise words from the father he never really knew, that turn out to mean a great deal.

he knows the swell of P A T I E N C E that came from a childhood spent alone, even when he had family: that the injustice of his existence came washed up in shells on the shoreline because that boy so young...so alone, felt the wavering tides of need. of hope that buried itself so deep beneath his veins that he'd felt older than his years, when he first felt the shrill of a storm brewing beneath his skin -- the sad truth? he'd have traded it for a mother present ( to not love the parent he had, alone. as if by chance it became certain wherever he aimed his empathy and his care, it would never be returned ). those are the plights of a selfless boy; willing to bare his teeth and shoulder burdens because aiming a hopeful gaze at himself seemed barely plausible at all. maybe that's why he doesn't flinch when she appears: that he would argue she'd long since haunted him most of his life, that it would seem only fitting for her to appear now when he had felt himself teetering down the path of hope once more.

that's the thing about her gaze, it speaks for the disappointment that had yet to reach her lips. that he may have wished for kinder words but they're few and far between. the chuckle that offers itself as a shield against her is fractured, echoing the cracks he'd been doing his best to fill in. " I know how this next part goes... " he purses his lips, hands gripping the arms of his chair in some familiar ��habit. a grounding force that along with the man who had long since imbedded metal fragments in his heart, was the safety he found himself clinging to. " i'm disappointed charles...you could've been so much more...-- " the plight of which he's certain his rather dead mother would take joy in, fell short; she doesn't answer. if anything she appears more like the pictures in the manner, a judging glare was as vocal as it got. that when her finger raises he takes haste to follow it's line of sight out of fear of what it leads to ( because a smile foreign suggests how strange this is: how it presents as nothing more than a trap, to which he's certain he won't enjoy the outcome of ). the only real certainty he has, is that he's not a coward. that his eyes hesitate only out of fear of what he'll wake up to because he'd certainly had far too much good lately, that flames seemed inevitable and the remains he'd find himself in where DESERVED.

it's features he knows only through pictures that make him swallow back his self pity: that his mother's silence wasn't a mockery but rather the kindness of a woman at peace with the man she'd loved. that in a manner of seconds he'd turned into that little boy again -- one so desperate for something. for answers only a father could offer. it doesn't come in haste that his throat becomes dry. that he wanes a smile, hidden beneath features so ready to swell up with fear and sadness ( it doesn't take much to be reminded of his own plights from so long ago: that he wondered if he'd lived up to what his father would've wanted. that if he were here, as he is now, he'd be proud of the man his son became regardless of the lack of influences he had ). he swallows back his concerns with the remaining liquid in his glass; it's enough to hide the tears that fall idly and threaten to begin a never ending stream. he coughs once: an attempt to clear the pain in his voice, though he fails regardless. " I used to toy with how you'd be...-- mother never spoke of you, so I was left to conjure up my own ideas; sometimes you were cruel because that was easier BUT most of the time... " he shakes his head. a weary smile settling. " you were this and I know...-- I know this can't be real, that i've perhaps lost my mind but it's nice...to see you again. " he counts the moments of silence that follow. buries his head in the sand until a hand squeezes his shoulder, eyes casting upward now as if he's waiting for the final blow. the man shakes his head, a smile so obscenely kind, charles can't help but find himself lost to it. " you have so little to be sorry for, " his father's voice comes with certainty and a confidence that even charles himself hadn't ever imagined. " your mother became cold and along the way so did a part of your heart. that's hardly your fault...but you can't dwell here any longer: dwelling in what you couldn't stop, will not bring you peace... " he nods, a gentle squeeze of the shoulder. " I didn't want you to become anything more than you were; you love and you care so fiercely, don't lose that because of plights with inner demons. you are so much more than you believe yourself to be...and i'm so proud of the man you are. " it’s strange how easy those words sink in. that he doesn’t question them and when things fall quiet again he’s no longer scared of the outcome. ghosts are just that: GHOSTS. echoes that he’ll see again one day when the tide of time chooses his name and he joins them. he’ll sit with them and till they wash away, until all that’s left is their imprint. that his ONLY regret remains those living that his parents won't meet. that he can feel the shard of metal in his heart and wonder what that would be like. for the first time, in a long time, he feels solace. SERENE.

#phoenixmasquerade #selfpara;#tw: death mentions

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injusticeff · 4 years

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Chapter Twenty-Nine

***4 years later***

Simone

“But mom, she’s putting my toy in her mouth!” I heard Junior frantically call out to me as my eyes averted to the rear view mirror to look at the both of them sitting in the back seat.

Xae snickered from the driver’s seat beside me causing me to do the same which only angered Junior even more since we weren’t taking him as seriously as he wanted to be taken. “Junior, your sister’s only a baby. You did the same thing when you were two.”

“Yea, but to my own toys.” He retorted back in a defeated tone, knowing that he just wasn’t going to win this one. He took one last glance over at his now slobber filled toy before letting out an annoyed huff and turning his head to look out of the window instead. "Whatever, she can have it."

Xae attempted to hold in his laughter as he took a quick glance behind him to look at Junior before swiftly focusing his attention back on the road in front of him. "How about I get you a new toy lil man—a better one."

"Really?!" My eight year old's face instantly lit up at the mention of something brand new and not covered in his sister's saliva. "Anything I want?"

Xae nodded in response, keeping his eyes in front of him as he drove. "Yup, anything you want. Just make sure your sister doesn't get ahold of this one."

"I won't. Thanks dad!" Junior replied with a giddy smile on his face, completely forgetting about the toy that he had been complaining about not even two minutes prior.

A wide smile spread across my face at the sight of Junior's excited expression. My eyes soon averted over to Xae as I grabbed his hand and interlocked our fingers, bringing the back of his hand up to my lips before pressing a soft kiss against his caramel toned skin. I loved when he took the initiative and treated Junior as if he was his child, even after we had a baby of our own. He could have started neglecting Junior since he now had a kid that shared his DNA, but it was like Xae didn't even miss a beat. It made it that much easier for Junior to accept him as part of our family at first, although my son knew who his real father was.

"I love you." I mumbled against his soft skin causing his hand to give mine a comforting squeeze as he glanced over at me in admiration.

He flashed me a quick smile as he replied with those same words, the passion in them still as evident as the first time that we told each other we loved one another. The drive from then on was filled with content silence as our family maneuvered through traffic and the radio played lowly in the background.

Today was a routine for our family. Every Sunday, we'd visit the cemetery and speak to our deceased loved ones. Just to feel like we were still connected to and could communicate with them somehow.

We all hopped out of the car with Xae unstrapping our daughter, Tiara, from her car seat where she had been sleeping peacefully. We named her after Tiarra, of course. Although we weren't close, I took her murder a bit harder than I thought I would and since I wasn't able to make it to her funeral, I figured it was the least I could do. Though, Xae and I decided to spell our daughter's name differently because I wanted her to be the opposite of my older sister; a true queen with a name fit for what belonged atop her head.

Tiara was the beautiful baby girl from our dreams. And nothing at all how I expected her to be. I finally understood those terrible two stages that mothers were always talking about.

"Baby, I'm gon' take Tiara to go see my grandmother. I'll meet y'all back here in ten and if y'all are even a second late, I'm calling the police." Xae unknowingly interrupted my train of thought as he held a fast asleep Tiara, earning a light giggle from me in response. Protective wasn't even the word for how Xavier was when it came to our family. After experiencing people breaking into and hurting him in his own home, he vowed never to let it happen again. Especially not while his family was inside. Over his dead body.

"Alright, I love you." I replied lovingly as I leaned into him, puckering my lips up for a kiss. He tried to fight the smile that was daring to form on his face but couldn't as the butterflies that were still in my stomach every time I laid eyes on him was surely still in his.

He pressed his lips against mine softly, his hand cupping my cheek as I melted into his embrace. Every time still felt like the first time that we kissed; passionate and electrifying.

"Mom! Dad! Ew!" Junior abruptly called out, ultimately pulling both Xae and I away from each other as we laughed at his disgusted expression. He was still at that age where he thought girls were disgusting and just wanted to play video games all day long.

"I'll see you in ten." I added as I started toward Junior causing him to turn and start our walk through the small cemetery.

It didn't take long before we reached the tombstone marked Dominick Anderson, 1992-2016.

He had committed suicide about a year into his sentence. That's what the police informed me, at least. The Dominick I knew would harm anyone other than himself. Junior was young when it happened so I didn't think he really understood the concept of death. Hell, I wasn't even sure if he did now. He just knew that his father was gone and he would never be able to see him again. It was hard to explain to a child because they had so many questions that you just didn't know how to answer.

"Hey dad!" Junior called out as we approached the gravesite. "Guess what? I made the basketball team at my school. Now watch me be the next MJ. Swish!" He stepped back, tossing an imaginary ball into the air causing me to giggle at his antics. That was the thing he was most excited about this school year.

"That's right and I'm so proud of him. You should see him out there." I added as I pulled my son into me making him immediately toss his arm around me in return. I always spoke to Dom right along with Junior so that he would never feel like he was going through this by himself. I would always be right by his side, no matter what his sadistic father did to me and the people I loved.

I wasn't sure if I should ever tell Junior all of the crazy things that Dominick did while he was alive and why he ended up in prison in the first place. I was certain once he truly understood, the questions would come flooding in anyway but that just wasn't something that was easy to admit to a person in general.

Junior playfully began pushing my embrace away with the smack of his lips. "Nuh uh, she won't even get me those new Jordan's that just came out."

"Boy, that's because them shoes were over a hundred dollars and your feet are still growing a mile a minute. You must be crazy." I retorted back causing him to wave me off with a slight chuckle and continue his conversation with his father.

Things were so different and peaceful now that Dom had passed. Sometimes, I had to take a step back and appreciate moments like these.

***

My head rested comfortably on Xae's chest as his arm laid over my body protectively. I allowed my fingers to trace light circles against his skin while I stared ahead at Tiara's crib that was pressed up against the wall in front of me. The sound of his heartbeat serenaded my ears and his slow breathing had also caused me to relax a bit more.

It was nearing three in the morning and for some reason, I couldn't sleep for the life of me.

There was something nagging at me but I couldn't figure it out. Nights like these were rare but they happened every so often. Usually some tea or hot cocoa would warm my body and do the trick in helping me fall asleep so after a while of not being able to fall asleep on my own, I decided to make just that.

I carefully slipped out of Xae's hold causing him to stir a bit but ultimately settle back into his deep slumber. Grabbing my silk robe from my closet, I accompanied it with some comfortable fuzzy slides and began to make my way towards the kitchen to start boiling the water for my tea.

As I passed Junior's room, I could hear faint sniffling coming from inside making my head instantly jerk back. It was late and usually, my son would be knocked out—slobbering and all.

I gave his room door a gentle shove as my fingers immediately reached for the light switch, flipping his light on. His head instantly snapped up in my direction allowing me to get a good look at his tear stained face. It broke my heart into pieces just to see him hurting. "Aw, baby. What's wrong?"

My feet carried me over towards his bed and I sat down beside him before enveloping him into a light embrace, my hands rubbing small circles onto his back.

"I had a bad dream. Me and dad went to the fair together and we were playing games and having fun." He paused for a bit as I remained quiet, allowing him to continue whenever he was ready. "There were so many people and they kept pushing me and when I turned around, dad was gone. He left me in my dream just like he left me in real life. He doesn't even wanna be with me in my dreams." Junior shook his head in disappointment.

At that moment, I realized he was talking about Dominick and not Xae. My chest ached as I stared down at my son's heartbroken face, unsure of what else to do except hug him tighter. "Baby, your father was battling a lot of demons and was gonna be in prison for a long time. He just couldn't handle that. It had nothing to do with you, he loved you with all his heart."

And that was the truth. If Dom wasn't anything, he was a good father when he was around his son. They were like two peas in a pod when they were together.

"But didn't he think about not being able to see me anymore? He ain't even think about me." His head hung low as it shook from side to side in sorrow.

I sighed, not knowing how in the world to respond without making Dom sound like the selfish man that he actually was. The last thing I wanted was for Junior to see him as a monster. There was no telling what kind of trauma the truth would cause. As far as he knew, all he saw was love from the both of us when we were all together. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

He nodded in response before lifting up his covers, signaling for me to get underneath them. My teeth grazed my bottom lip a bit before I quickly stood to my feet. "Hold on." I swiftly made my way over to my phone, opening up my safari app and going to the shoe website that Junior had excitedly shown me the previous week. The shoes he wanted were one of the first on the web page since I had viewed it previously.

Without a second thought, I purchased the sneakers he wanted and had them shipped to our home. I decided against telling him now and just chose to surprise him whenever the shoes came.

Heading back over to the bed, I slid beneath the covers and Junior automatically threw his arm over me protectively as he snuggled into my side. My body responded by pulling him closer to me as a small smile graced my face at the love that was radiating off of him. We had a bond that was unbreakable.

Within minutes, I was dozing off into a comfortable slumber with my son wrapped up in my arms.

Bree

I stepped into the doctor’s office with an anxious sigh, far from ready for them to be face-to-face with me as they would at any given second.

Looking around the room without purpose, my feet swung back and forth as I sat on the elevated seat in the middle of the room. Just sitting there alone and with my thoughts was enough to have me going crazy, coming up with all types of scenarios in my head as to why my OB/GYN had called me back in a week after my annual checkup.

I could only think of the worst. I mean, it was hard not to when they refused to tell me anything over the phone. But nothing felt wrong so I had no clue what it could be.

The only person I had been having sex with was Antonio. We started dating not too long after I moved in. He was an active father and was there for me through every step of the way during my pregnancy with our son, Javier. Since it wasn't supposed to be possible for me to have children in the first place, my pregnancy underwent many complications which meant countless hospital visits and sleepless nights. Javier and seeing Antonio's love for him was the only thing that made it worth while.

Javier was born premature and Antonio decided to take one month off from managing his restaurant to be with me through the entire process. Without me even having to ask.

I found myself smiling just thinking back on it. Antonio and I's relationship definitely wasn't perfect but we made it work for the sake of our child and that, I could always commend us on.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of the heavy wooden door swinging open, followed by my gynecologist stepping inside of the room right after. She was a sweet lady in her mid-thirties that never failed to make me feel as comfortable as possible whenever I was in her care. It was why although she was transferred to a farther location a few months ago, I had no problem going out of my way so she could continue being my doctor.

"Hello, Bree." She immediately welcomed me with a warm smile causing me to flash her one in return. Her voice was smooth like honey.

I had preferred she called me by my first name since I had taken Antonio's last one about a year after our son was born. Things were going so well and we wanted to make things official and be a real family. Though, sometimes I didn't like hearing his last name at the end of mine. Times like this where I was questioning our relationship entirely.

"Hi, Mrs. Rozario. How are you doing today?"

"I'm doing well." She shut the room door behind her and set the manila folder that resided in her hands down onto the desk that sat in the corner of the room. "So, I'm aware that you came in for your annual check up a couple weeks ago, correct?"

I nodded in response, letting her know that what she had stated was right. "Yes, is something wrong? They wouldn't tell me anything over the phone."

She gave me an uncertain look as she sat down on a stool seated near the desk she had previously placed the folder on. "Well, your results came back." She spoke as she swung the folder open, reviewing over the contents of the paperwork that sat inside. "I'm sorry to say this so bluntly, but you tested positive for Human papilloma virus otherwise known as HPV. Now, have you had unprotected sex with anyone in the last six months?"

The shocked expression was evident on my face as I began to stumble over my own words. "No. I mean—just my child's father. My husband." It felt a bit forced to even say that but she had to know that I wasn't just out there like that. "I don't understand. I don't have any symptoms."

"Well, many people that have HPV don't develop any symptoms other than occasional genital warts. And you haven't spotted any of those forming around your vagina or the surrounding areas?" She asked as her pen moved a mile a minute against the paperwork she had been looking over.

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach at just the thought of Antonio cheating on me. I knew we didn't have the best relationship but I thought we had enough respect for each other not to step out. I didn't want to believe it. "No, I don't think so. Is it curable?" My chest began to flutter almost immediately after asking the question. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

"I'm sorry Bree, but Human papilloma virus is not curable but there are treatments to remove the warts if you ever come across some forming. Other than that, you must protect yourself and your partner during intercourse from now on."

She continued to explain some things to me but I completely zoned her out as tears threatened to spill from my eyes, the gravity of the situation hitting me all at once. In a blink of an eye, I was now living with an incurable disease and it was all thanks to Antonio. He had not only stepped out on me, but brought something back to me as well and that alone had my blood boiling.

He had no care or remorse for my health or my feelings.

The remainder of my appointment was a blur and I was completely zoned out as I drove back home, unknowing of how I should react once I actually saw his face. I wanted to hurt him for putting me through this. I wanted to make him feel the pain I felt.

My vision was cloudy as I pulled into the driveway, instantly rolling my eyes as I noticed the car that sat out front. As I neared the front door, I could clearly hear angry screaming and things being thrown around inside the house. There wasn't a time where they weren't like this and it was beginning to get a bit annoying.

I sighed as I pushed the door open, stepping inside only for the yelling match to become louder and more evident on what the reasoning for it all was.

"No!!" I heard her voice yell out from what I assumed to be the kitchen. "I'm sick and tired of you treating your daughter like she doesn't even exist while you're over here giving your son and that puta everything. It's not fair to me or her!" Serina screamed out which immediately made me even more livid. I wasn't in the mood for her or her antics today.

After the first time they had sex, Serina had gotten pregnant with Antonio's baby causing us to basically go through our pregnancy at the same time. She was the epitome of baby mama drama and if I didn't have a child with Antonio already, I wouldn't have wanted any parts.

Making my way to the kitchen, I cleared my throat to make myself known causing both Ant and Serina to snap their heads in my direction. She instantly scoffed and mumbled something under her breath before looking at Antonio expectantly. "Well? Don't act like you weren't about to disregard everything I was saying just to cater to her now that she's here. You know what? I'm over it Antonio. If you don't wanna be in your daughter's life, that's on you."

"Chill. No one said that I didn't wanna be in her life. I love Alianna with everything in me but you're expecting me to spend every waking moment with y'all when you know I have other responsibilities too." He responded in a calmer tone than they were using before, attempting to lighten the mood now that I was in their presence.

"Oh really?" She scoffed again as she placed a hand on her hip. "Responsibilities like what? Catering to this bitch right here?!" Serina threw her hand my way, gesturing towards me without even a glance in my direction.

And that was the last straw. "Yes, bitch, damn! You're mad because he's not paying you no attention. Newsflash sis, he never wanted your ass to begin with so get out of our house with the disrespectful shit and you!" I turned towards Antonio causing him to widen his eyes, not expecting things to be turned back on him. "How dare you continue to allow this broad to come in your house and disrespect your wife. Grow some fucking cajones you spineless fucking bastard."

They both looked shocked at how bad I was seething and honestly, I was a bit surprised at myself too since I rarely ever blew up like that but after the news I had just received, I was over being nice. "Now, I'm gonna ask you one more time to leave our home because I'm trying to have a conversation with my husband in peace."

"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of the both of us." She responded as she folded her arms across her chest, only making me more angry by the second.

My attention averted from her back over to Antonio as I glared at him with an expectant look. "Antonio. Get her ass out of here because I'm really about to chew the both of y'all out."

"Man, you remember last time I tried to put her ass out. She was screaming and carrying on about how I was man handling her, threatening to call the cops. I don't need a scene like that right now, Bree."

I looked at him as if he had three heads. "I don't give a fuck what you don't want! I didn't wanna catch HPV from your lying, dirty, dog ass but here I am!" I screamed at him, unable to hold back any longer. In all honesty, I was hurt that he would do that to me and it was probably with the bitch standing in front of me in the first place.

"Oop." Serina immediately began to gather her things, trying to contain the laugh she was so evidently holding in. "Well, that's my cue." She brushed passed me with a teasing smirk as I glared at her the entire way out.

When I turned back to Antonio, I can tell he was speechless by my revelation but he didn't look an ounce bit surprised and that alone turned the rest of my hurt into pure anger. I waited until I heard the door shut before I decided to continue. "How could you do this to me, Ant? I mean, why marry me if all you're gonna do is fuck around? You're fucking dirty and you don't deserve me or your son."

"So, you're gonna try and take my son away from me because we're having problems?" He responded almost as if he had the right to be upset with me.

"No, YOU have the problem. I wasn't the one out sticking my dick in infected bitches and bringing that shit back home!" I yelled in his face, only growing more heated the more that I thought about the situation. This was something I would never be able to rid myself of.

Antonio smacked his lips in response. "Well, maybe if you were a better wife, I wouldn't be out getting my needs met by your friend, Cecilia, now would I?"

His words immediately halted me in my tracks as I stared at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher whether or not he was serious about knowingly sleeping with my friend.

But the smug smirk on his face told it all.

And then I saw red. I was so tired of everything he had put me through. It was as if I blinked and a sharp kitchen knife had suddenly presented itself in my hand as I shoved the object in and out of his abdomen repeatedly, seemingly unable to stop myself.

Blood splattered all over my hands and lower half as his body soon became limp and fell to the ground with a loud thud. But I couldn't stop. I just kept stabbing him and stabbing him until I could feel my anger physically expel from my body simultaneously.

A natural high overcame my body but I immediately came down from it once I realized what I had done.

Xae

“Babe, you want something from the store?” Simone called up to me from downstairs as I heard a bit of rustling coming from down there, most likely Junior putting on his shoes and jacket.

Instead of yelling back down to her, I decided to get up and make my way down the stairs where, sure enough, Simone and Junior were getting ready to leave. Tiara was staying at home with me since it was a bit cold out and we didn't want to take her out too much unless it was needed.

As I neared Simone, my arms immediately snaked around her waist as I admired her natural beauty with hooded eyes. I wasn't going to lie, a nigga was slick in the mood but adulting consisted of having to wait for the perfect time to do those things. In other words, when the kids were asleep.

"Yea, you know those boxes of spicy Jamaican beef patties? I've been wanting some for a while." I pretended to think for a split second. "Oh, and lemme get a lil' bit of you too."

Her eyebrow raised as a small smirk began to form on her face and she closed the space between her body and mine. "A little bit of me, huh?"

One of her hands found themselves cupping my cheek before she leaned up, softly pressing her lips against mine. I didn't hesitate to return the favor as our lips moved in sync together, our tongues somehow adding themselves to the mix after a couple seconds of light pecks. Every time I kissed this woman was like the first time I kissed her; the day everything I knew turned out to be a lie. But she remained the same and there through it all.

"Mom. Dad. Please." We suddenly heard Junior sigh in annoyance causing us to break away with a light chuckle. When I looked down at him, he was looking back up at us while shaking his head in pure disgust.

"What? So you get to kiss your mama but I don't?" I teased, my arms still resting securely around her waist. "Not fair."

He shrugged slightly. "You can kiss her on the cheek like I do. All that is unnecessary."

Simone immediately bent down so that she was face to face with our son as she held her hand out for him to high five, which he did proudly. "Good use of that word, baby. You're so smart." The eight-year-old cheesed at his mother's compliment. A definite mama's boy to the tee.

A low snicker came from me as I also held my hand out for him to slap. "You'll understand when you're older why her cheek just isn't enough for me sometimes."

Simone gave me a playfully knowing look as she lightly hit my arm. She wasn't ready to give him 'the talk' about girls and things of that sort just yet. He was still young and we decided to wait until he at least hit his teens or preteens to even bring a subject like that up. As far as we knew, Junior still thought girls his age had cooties and Simone was content with that.

"Is that all you want?" She turned her attention back over to me causing me to nod in response. We still had pretty much a lot of food to eat in our kitchen now, we had just ran out of the basic necessities such as bread and milk so she didn't need to buy out the whole store. Plus, I wanted her to hurry up and come back home to me anyway. "Ok, I'll be back in a few. I love you."

We shared another light peck before I walked both her and Junior to the front door, swinging it open for them soon after. "I love y'all too. Be safe out there and make sure you text me when you make it there."

I wasn't going to lie and say that I wasn't still a bit paranoid from the events that happened all those years ago. A near death experience could do that to you but for me, it wasn't about being in control. I just wanted to know they made it safely to where they needed to go and if I didn't receive a text or call, I would know something was wrong right away. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was ever too late to make it to any of them.

A light smile graced my face as I watched them get seated in the car for a couple of seconds before shutting the door behind me once I saw them pull off. Tiara was up in our room sleeping when I had first came downstairs so I decided to wait half an hour before I went up and checked on her again. That girl loved her sleep and waking her up out of it would be hell for anyone that tried.

I wasn't even able to reach the living room couch before hearing frantic knocking coming from my front door. Quickly rushing to answer, I swung the door open praying that Simone and Junior hadn't gotten into any trouble that fast but immediately froze instead.

My eyes traveled downwards then back up to her face in pure disbelief. I couldn't quite make out what I was looking at, but I could tell that it was nothing good at all. "What you doing here?" Was all that could manage to slip from my mouth. Not even a 'what happened' or 'are you ok' could form because there was something in me telling me that I didn't want to know the answers to those questions.

Bree immediately barged in, nearly shoving me to the side altogether as she began pacing the floor back and forth repeatedly. Almost every inch of her was covered in what seemed to be dried up blood and her eyes looked as if they hadn't stopped shedding tears in hours. There were a million questions I wanted to ask but didn't at the same time.

"Bree, what are you doing here?" I repeated myself, being sure not to step too close to her. My front door remained open behind me up until she rushed over to it and slammed it shut before sinking down to the floor, her head buried in her hands.

Tiara's loud cries instantly filled the house causing me to sigh, realizing the loud noise from the door closing most likely woke her up. Quickly rushing up the stairs to grab her from her crib, I made my way back down to see Bree still sitting in the same spot I left her. Only this time, she was rocking back and forth.

I rocked my daughter on my hip as she laid her head down on my shoulder, still a bit fussy from being woken up out of her sleep but more calm since she was now in my arms. Bree slowly looked up at the both of us, a bit surprised to see a baby on my hip I presumed.

She slowly made her way back up to her feet and eyed the both of us down quietly. I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy with her presence as a whole. It didn't feel right to have her in here, especially while Simone was gone.

"Is she yours?" She finally broke her silence. The pettiness in me wanted to say that she was the only person who would put a child on a man that wasn't the father, but I just nodded instead. Bree looked back over to Tiara with a small smile, looking almost as if she wanted to hold her and mother her herself.

But her smile instantly fell as the empty look she arrived here with soon took over once again. "I'm never gonna be able to see my son again now. And because of me he's gonna be put into the system." More tears began to pool from her eyes and I couldn't do anything but stare at her. Not an ounce in me wanted to comfort her in this moment; I just wanted to know why she showed up here.

"Wait, why wouldn't you be able to see your son again? Where is he? And where's Antonio—"

"He's dead!" She quickly cut me off at the mention of his name as her head sunk down until she was staring ahead at her feet. "...I did it—I killed him."

A hardy laugh immediately escaped my lips. Bree might have been a lot of things but a cold hearted killer wasn't one of them. I just couldn't bring myself to believe that the tiny girl in front of me actually had the gall to take someone else's life. Especially the father of her child.

But when she looked up at me without a hint of laughter in her expression, I knew she had to be serious. "Wait, you're for real?"

"Yes, Xae. Please, you have to help me!" She took a couple of steps closer to me but I instantly moved back, looking at her as if she needed to be checked into a mental hospital.

"Help you?" I mimicked her tone of voice unintentionally. "Bree, how the fuck am I supposed to help you? You killed someone! Then you're gonna have the audacity to bring this bullshit back to me and my family. No, I'm not helping you. And how dare you even ask me that in front of my daughter."

She sighed, attempting to hide the fact that she rolled her eyes but failing miserably. "It's not like she can understand what I'm saying. Please, Xae. I don't have anyone else."

"No!" I reiterated more sternly this time. "I'm not doing anything. Matter of fact, you ain't even come over here and tell me this shit. You need to leave now. I won't turn you in or nothing but you needa get far away from my house and never contact me again. You're gonna have to handle the decisions you made on your own."

The painful expression on her face only deepened as she nodded her head and began making her way back towards the direction she came. I could tell she was hurt by my bluntness but her problems didn't involve me anymore and neither did her drama. I was finally happy and I couldn't let something that had nothing to do with me mess that up.

She left without another word and thankfully she headed out when she did because not too long afterwards, Simone and Junior had pulled back up from the store. I wasn't sure how Simone would have reacted seeing Bree after four years of never hearing about her and I didn't want to know either.

But there was no way I was about to hide what just happened from her either so as soon as they stepped through the door, I told Junior to watch his sister and pulled her into our bedroom to explain everything from start to finish.

"So, she waited on me to leave before she came in here? Sneaky ass bitch." Simone shook her head, nothing but disdain for my ex on her face. I was still angry that she would actually try and get me involved with something like that.

There were times where she would hit me up over the years to see how I was doing and wish me well, but I knew for a fact that I had never made her feel comfortable enough to even think that she could come to me with something like that. And our history together didn't mean a damn thing to me in that moment; all that mattered was protecting my family.

"Well, I guess since we're revealing things, I have something to tell you too." She added, instantly causing one of my eyebrows to raise in confusion. My heartbeat began to quicken. I couldn't take any more bad news right about now. "I'm pregnant."

I only stared for a few seconds as my brain took a little while to process the information. "You? As in—" Stuttering over my words, my hand began to caress her stomach as she giggled and nodded yes.

Without another word, I wrapped my arms around her waist and swept her off of her feet as I dressed her face in multiple kisses all over. Her light laughs filled my ear as my kisses continued to rain down on her, the good news ultimately making me forget the reason I was even angry in the first place.

My wife was having another one of my children and there was nothing that could ever pull me away from that.

THE END

#chris brown ff #saweetie #urban ff #chris brown #chrisbrown #saweetie ff #injusticeff #cb

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too-many-baes · 5 years

Text

Holy; Chapter I

You make it seem that you feel whole,

So they don’t know, you’re a poor unfortunate soul

You say that I’ve got it all wrong

‘Cause you just know I’m a poor unfortunate soul

- Holy by PVRIS

*****

Pairing: Erik Lensherr x fem!reader x Charles Xavier

Warning(s): N/A

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: A flashback to a meeting. A reconnecting of old friends.

A/N: This is the first series that I am posting here and I’m a little nervous to see how my baby goes, but here goes nothin’!

***********

5th August, 1951 Notting Hill, London England

You stood outside the little brick and mortar tavern marvelling at its design. There was nothing particularly spectacular about the building and all the other passer-by’s agreed, walking by without another look.

The old sign that read Anchored Twine that once appeared to have been green and silver had all but lost its colour, hanging on by only one of its chains. The solitary park bench that sat outside was missing a slat and covered in blue and yellow graffiti.

Yes, to everyone else the place was run down and due for remodelling. You couldn’t find a conceivable way to view it as such, struggling to imagine replacing a brick of its structure. It was so quaint, so authentic, so… British. You simply didn’t see little hole in the wall places like this back in America that’s for sure. You wanted nothing more than to go in and order a bitter ale (never usually your drink of choice but one you knew was popular here) but the loud sound of clinking glasses and boisterous hearty laughs reminded you that you couldn’t. It’s simply not safe to go into a place like that as an unaccompanied bachelorette.

You tried to not let your disappointment linger as you crossed the road into a small park, deciding to give your feet a rest after a long day of exploring, on a bench which was in much better shape than the one situated outside Anchored Twine. You closed your eyes, leaning your head on the wood so the sun shining through the branches could warm your face. You know that it’s the exact same sun that bears down its rays in Chicago, but you can’t help but think this one over London feels different. Cosier somehow, less aggressive.

You open your eyes with a sigh, taking in your surroundings. It was a small almost completely vacant park. It had smatterings of trees and shrubs, with an open area behind you where two young boys were situated kicking a soccer ball back and forth. When your eyes continued their scan of the area was when you noticed him.

Just a ways down the path on a separate bench on the opposite side of the path sat a man you guessed to be about your age. He appeared tall, with an above average build, short brown hair and a vacant, faraway stare. His eyes were pointing in the direction of the children playing yet somehow you knew he was staring through them rather than at them. Your gaze lingered on his face until he sensed your eyes on him and he turned to meet your glance. He seemed lonely. You supposed you did too as you were also alone, but his loneliness extended beyond his lack of company. It was something in his eyes, or maybe it was the way his lips were set in a firm line as if it had been an age since a smile had graced them, or perhaps it was the premature lines etched into his forehead that told of constant worry. You gave him a small smile, a gesture that was not reciprocated, instead causing him to return his vacant eyes forwards.

You sighed and picked yourself up from the seat and began down the block to the motel you were staying, trying and failing to rid the lonesome man from your thoughts.

22nd February, 1968 Westchester County, New York America

You hop out of the taxi, paying your fare with your worn leather suitcase held firmly in hand. As the taxi pulls away you look down the dirt road to the stately mansion ahead, its once white bricks and large green expanse spread out in front of you. You smile as you head towards the front door, recalling fond memories spent within the grand design. Many students meander around in groups or solo. Some lay in the sun, others gossip while others stand practising their mutations with peers.

“Y/N?” Casting your eyes to your right you are greeted by a smiling glasses clad face.

“Hank.” You greet each other by meeting in a side hug before parting. You look at his face, your smile fading as you realise a fact that should have been obvious to you. “You look different Hank, less…” “Blue?” He finishes the sentence you were struggling to word delicately for you. You chuckle along with him.

“I made a serum, it suppresses my mutation if I take it every day.” He smiles at his explanation and you offer him a weak one in return. You can’t help but find sadness in his words. You can’t imagine what it must be like to want to take something every day to block out your identity. That’s just you though, and you know you’ll never truly understand his position. You are no mutant after all.

Hank leads you inside the halls of the institution. You’d forgotten what the school looked like on the weekend and the buzz of students brought a grin to your face. “It’s just like I remember it.” You spoke mostly to yourself, although Hank heard you.

“Well hopefully a little bit bigger. We’ve almost doubled in students since you were last here.” He states proudly as he leads you up the grand stairway and down the hall to your favourite room in the mansion.

“I take it he’s in his office?” You ask teasingly, addressing the fact he had brought you there without you saying anything. He smiles at you. “I assumed that’s why you were here.” You nod in confirmation. “You sure part of your mutation isn’t mind reading?” you quip.

“I don’t think you need to read minds to know that.” Hank says as he knocks on the professor’s door. A soft call to come in sounds and Hank opens it and leads you in. “Someone’s here to see you.” Charles’ face is fixed on the papers on his desk and his attention doesn’t shift.

“Could you ask them to come back? I don’t have a lot of time at the moment.”

“Not even for an old friend?”

Your voice makes his eyes snap up and as soon as they meet yours his lips, previously set in a line, spreads across his face. “Y/N.” He speaks breathily. “Hi Charles.” His smile was infectious as you found your lips had mirrored his. Hank excuses himself saying he’d leave you two to catch up, shutting the door behind him.

“Well get over here.” Charles states as he moves from behind the desk. Your smile falters when his silver chair that you had almost forgotten he needed came into your line of sight. You recover quickly enough that you hoped he didn’t notice as you walk into his open arms, crouching so you could wrap your arms around his neck.

Charles motions you to sit in the suite in the centre of the room and offers you some tea. You decline the latter but sit down on the chair closest to him.

“So I take it you’re not here for a social visit.” He states, motioning with his head towards your suitcase. Your smile falls as you shook your head. “I need your help Charles. It’s Eric.” His once beaming face droops at the mention of his old friend’s name. “What about Eric?” He asks, worry dripping from his voice.

“He’s losing it Charles. I think he’s trying to gather more mutants for his cause.” Charles nods solemnly. “I’m worried about him Charles. If we don’t try and stop him I don’t know what he could do.” His eyes shift to the floor allowing your words to register.

“Our friend is troubled Y/N, I knew that before I even looked into his mind.” You nod solemnly in agreeance. If anyone knew just how troubled Eric was, it was you.

“So can you help me find him?” You ask already knowing that Charles wouldn’t turn his back on his friend. He was a good man and he cared about him, no matter what. That day on the beach had proved as much to you.

“Of course Y/N.” Although you had assumed this would be his answer, his reply still fills you with relief. “We can talk about this more tomorrow. I’m sure you’ve come a long way,” he says with a grin on his way, “you could do with some rest.”

“Is my old room still free?” You ask immediately, picking up your suitcase and slightly swinging it in your hand. “I would never fill that room.” The smile he gives you is sincere and return the gesture before turning to make your way down the corridor where the room you once called home lay.

“Y/N?” You turn around to face him just as you were about to exit the room. “It’s good to see you again.” You tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You too, Professor X.” You added cheekily, his chuckle echoing in your ears as you went to settle in and prepare yourself for tomorrow.

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