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luna666us · 3 years

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Adventure (Pt.1)

A/N:Hi so this is an X-men fanfiction series that I am creating. I take suggestions and requests thank you and I hope you enjoy

#mutant and proud

adventure-pt2 adventure-pt3

Chapter one: Fire and Ice

They stood against the building with a group of other mutants. The first had wild shiny silver hair. His eyes were a beautiful light brown. A shade that I had never seen in someone’s eyes before, like milk chocolate. His features reminded me of an excited child, his smile never seemed to leave his face, that look of excitement and mischief always in his eyes. His tall frame was well built and strong, yet slim. The boy next to him then had my attention. Not because of the way his hair seemed to be almost golden, or because his lips were always set in a permanent look of boredom, not because his eyes seemed to hold every negative emotion in them at the same time, and not because of the way his body was built perfectly, giving him the build of a god. It was because of his mutation, he had beautiful wings as white as snow, with patches of brown and tan, like angel wings. At the edge of his wings along the bone, on either side are claws. The looks on the peoples faces that look at him is fear. Immediately I’m confused. Why did they fear him. Then again beauty was something to fear, it made you let down your guard, distracts you from the threat at hand. If anything I knew that better than anyone else. I stoped thinking of why I should fear him, once more allowing myself to get distracted again. He looked like an angel, a dark angel, a fallen angel, an archangel. Suddenly as if someone had been watching me stare at him, and had told him, he looks at me. anyone else would have looked away immediately, out fear of what would happen if caught staring at him. However my gaze held, eyes locked on his. It was something I was familiar with. Not something I had done before but had witnessed animals engage in. It was a stare down, a silent battle for dominance. I cocked my head to the side curiously. He doesn’t look away just yet. I smile at him, which seemed to take him by surprise. I then hear the sound of a familiar howl. I turn my head and standing about twenty miles away staring at me was my best friend Luke. I smirked then I was sprinting towards him. His body immediately bracing for impact. One of my ability’s allowing me to push myself faster than most people can run. I swivel left running towards the building. I run up the side of it on all fours, looking like a dangerous animal about to kill its prey. then once I’m in the right position I launch myself off of the building wall, and tackled Luke. Immediately as we wrestled he rolled us over so that he has me pinned to the grass. “I win.” He exclaimed. I smirk. Then I kick my legs up launching him into the air. His face no longer playful, determination filled his eyes. My smile drops and suddenly I look just as serious. I roll out of the way and take a defensive position on all fours. He lands and I stand up no longer crouched. Slowly we circle each other looking for a hole in the others defense. I no longer care if he can counter attack. I lunge and manage to land a solid roundhouse kick to his gut and he’s sent flying. Neither of us care that the entire population of student on the great lawn are watching. Some worried that we’re fighting but too afraid to do something, so eager to see the outcome of the brawl, some already placing bets, and some just generally curious. Another of my abilities take over and suddenly I’m speeding towards him inhumanly fast but not to the point where you cant see my movements. I make it to him before he hits the wall and I land a blow top his back that sends him flying in the other direction, just like before I’m there before he can hit anyone, suddenly in the air I spin around mid air and kick him downward he hits the ground with a force that creates a loud booming sound and the earth shakes. I land skillfully on the balls of my feet. Cautiously approach him. Suddenly he’s on his feet and he throws a punch landing to my abdomen I keel over but quickly recover, just fast enough to counter his next attack. I dodge his next blow and use my own momentum to jump int the air and wrap my leg around his neck taking him down, he lands on top of me and I put him in a head lock. he struggles a bit but eventually taps my arm twice tapping out. I let him go and he rolls over panting for air. “I win” he it still on the ground on his back. He laughs “I’ll win next time.” He claims. I laugh softly and shake my head slightly. I then reach out and he grabs my hand. I help him up and then I hear the sound of foot steps walking closer. “looks like the mutt got his butt handed to him... again.” I turn and glare at the boy with dirty blond hair in front of me. “leave him alone Jack.” I say angrily. “Or what?” I growl at him taking a step forward, but Luke grabs me by the arm and shakes his head. “he’s not worth it.” He says sounding hurt by the insult previously thrown at him. My growling getting louder, resonating deep in my chest. My eyes flash a bright red. “Tiki lets just go.” My eyes fade back to their usual soft coffee color. “fine.” Luke turn letting go of my arm and starts walking away. “but not before this.” I then roundhouse kick Jack and he is sent flying. I dont even wait to see him hit the ground I just turn and walk off. The bell rings and me and Luke part ways. I sat in the corner of the class room, I had a look of awe on my face as I watched Kurt practice his teleportation abilities. Jean walks over. “What do you like him or something” her voice sounded in my head. I laugh once. “Yes, but not in that way.” I speak back to her through my thoughts. “Then why are you staring.” I turn and look at her. this time speaking aloud. “I’ve always had a thing for mutants with physical mutations. Never had the patience for people who look too... human.” She nods once then waits for me to continue talking. it was the first time I had spoken aloud today so my voice caught a few people off guard including all of Jean’s friends. “I don’t really have a thing for them in that way, I just find it... I don’t really know how to put it. There are plenty of words o could use but none of them combine all of them into one word. It’s not that I find physical mutations weird or anything. It’s more like I find them... well the only word that I can think of is amazing really.” She seems curious now so she sits with me waiting for me to tell her everything. When I dont say anything she speaks. “name some people and explain.” I think for a moment. “It’s not exactly something I can explain.” She looks confused now. Kurt was listening in wanting to know why I found him so interesting when everyone else didn’t. “I dont understand.” She claims for the first time. I laugh softly. “ok. Imagine seeing a big bright butterfly, and you think that it’s beautiful. Then someone asks you to explain why it’s beautiful. Sure you could say that you like its wings or how it seems to light up in the sun. That would be obvious so instead they make you explain why you feel that particular thing is beautiful. You can’t explain that but just... feel.” She nods once in understanding. “so you feel he’s beautiful?” I giggle once. “yes but that is not what we are talking about.” I say. She laughs once and Kurt smiles softly. After a while I find myself standing in the middle of the training mat faceing Alex summers also know as Havok. Jean was reading my mind listening to see how I would play this out. I watched as he threw a punch. It seamed as if time slowed down around me. One moment I’m standing eight feet away the next time slows for everything and everyone but me and quicksilver who is the only one who can see everything happen in explicit detail. I laugh once, and punch him. He’s sent flying but time slows again I speed in front of him again before he hits the ground. I punch him again and speed over to him once more this time kicking him, I keep making it to him before he hits the ground. Punching and kicking. Peter smirks and pulls out his phone and plays smooth criminal. time speeds up again and before he hits the ground I launch myself into the air wrapping my leg around his neck bringing him down on the ground then dirty Diana plays. I slowly straighten out of my crouch. Alex jacknives to his feet with a smirk on his face. “lets get serious then” he says. I pull my leather jacket off and toss it to the side. With a look of determination and excitement fills my eyes. Warren turns off the music and replaces it with his own. I tense my body and crack my neck. I take my defensive position and he does the same. He bulldozes at me and I dodge he turns fast enough to land a good hit to my rib cage. That hard punch nocks the air from my lungs but it only fuels me. I roundhouse kick him and he’s sent flying, he manages to recover from the attack quickly this time. Both of us are an angry blur of punches and other attacks. The beat seems to drop then I’m launched into the air by one of his blows. I twirl through the air my eyes close temporarily then fly open and I grab onto a ceiling beam above me and use my momentum to flip myself onto it. I spring from the beam and turn landing sideways on the wall and push myself off of the wall and launch myself at him. I tackle him and pin him, he managed to switch our positions so that I’m pined and under him. “I win.” I smirk. “dont think so.” I retort. My hand goes up to his shirtless form and electricity flows through my hand electrocuting him. I take his short distraction to my Advantage. Bodies by drowning pool comes on and I can’t help but get hyped by the song that I listened to every weekend. Warren saw me getting hyped and he turns the music up. Alex is on his feet once more. I become a blur and kick him hard and he hits the floor hard. I crouch closer to him. “had enough yet?” I ask cockily. “nope.” Next song is Zombie by Bad Wolves. I was surprised that warren knew all of my favorite songs. once again me and Alex are cautiously circling each other. I make a move and he blocks my punch. He tries to counter with a side kick but I catch his leg and use my last attempt to finally win without using all of my abilities. I kick his other leg out from underneath him and he’s sent into a left split making him cries out in pain. He rolls over holding his crotch. “you win.” He says in pain. “mhm thought so.” I say then I turn and grab my jacket. I turn and reach for warrens phone and search never too late by three days grace. It begins playing and he looks amused. “nice pick.” He says. “well duh I have great taste in music and you obviously do too.” He smirks. “but I already knew that.” I roll my eyes at him and go sit with Jean and Kurt who had joined her. I smile at Jean. “your up.” She gets up and takes her place on the mat facing Jubilee. I sit next to Kurt and watch. he clears his throat and I look at him. “Hello, my Is Kurt” I smile and hold out my hand. “it’s nice to meet finally meet you Kurt, my name is Tiki.” He smiles. And shakes my hand. I watch as Jean is about to make a move and I start talking. “if Jean lands this blow to Jub’s leg then the match is already over for her, but if she manages to dodge then can counter attack with a roundhouse kick knocking Jean to the ground, distracting her long enough to pin her for three seconds ending the match.” Kurt looks at me in amazement. “you got all that just by their stances.” Your offensive and defensive stances can tell you a lot about whats going to happen befor it even happens. He look unconvinced. I smile. “you’ll see.” We both watch the match unfold. Jean moves forward and Jubilee doesn’t see it coming. Jean lands a kick to her calf and we watch as Jubilee begins to fall, Jean gets her in a head lock before she hits the ground, and flips Jubilee over and onto her back on the mat pinning her for three second and Jubilee taps out. I look at Kurt and smile. “told you.” He looks awed. Then my phone chimes, and I pull it out. It was Luke. ‘Glasses or no glasses?’ There is a picture of him wearing a pair of shades and one without them. ‘No shades’ i reply, then I turn my phone off and put it away. After a while I watched as two boys take their places on the mat. Kurt begins talking. “that one on the left is John Allerdyce, he has the power to manipulate fire, and the one on the right is Bobby Drake who can create and manipulate Ice. There code names are Pyro and Iceman.” I watch as Pyro pulls a Zippo from his pocket. It was designed like a shark. I was curious of the outcome of the fight. It was an equal fight, opposite powers. Fire and Ice.

A/n: I will be making a part two, I take requests and suggestions, i’m still looking for a beta reader so if you would like to hit me up and talk about it go right ahead. You are all X-men in my eyes. Have a great week and happy belated Easter.

P.s. I apologize for my horrible grammar and English. I just edited it so we should be good now.

#x-men #John Allerdyce #Peter Maximoff #Bobby Drake #Warren Worthington #Too many amazing characters to list here #mutant and proud #if your actually reading all this then your f***ing awsome #Stay healthy and safe

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can-u-imagine-that · 5 years

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Title: Battle Scars, part 2;

Fandom: X-Men (crossover with The Avengers, both movie-verse);

Character: Peter Maximoff;

Note: Y/N: Your Name;

Warning: Cursing;

Request: Okay I have a long request, please bear with me (probably could be split into parts). I have been craving for a little crossover imagine between the Avengers and the X-men. Soooo I was thinking that the main OC or the “you” has a relationship with Peter and they are all happy and stuff (idk probably before Dark Phoenix, after Apocalypse) and their mutation is healing… they can easily heal wounds but it hurts them when they do and the Avengers want them to help in the fight with Thanos (1) They feel the pain of the wound and depending of how many wounds they heal it may actually hurt them. They are an old friend of Natasha and Clint. They end up having a fight with Peter because he doesn’t want them to go (I like to think the x-men did their part during the war too, so maybe you could come up with something) but they end up going anyway, without solving things between them and Peter. And of course they disappear in Thanos Snap and Peter grieves and all fast foward (2) the remaining x-men are helping the Avengers fight Thanos in End Game when the Blip happens and boom they are back and reunite with Peter and he matured a lot and was never able to let go of his s/o and fluff happens… sorry for the long request omg, I just got really excited and I really hope you like it and can do it… thank you so so much Author’s Note: Okay, first H O L Y S H I T I’m so excited while I’m writing this. Literally I loved the request and I hope this meets your expectations! I had to change a few things in your request though, to fit better with what I decided to write. And just a few warnings to anyone who is going to venture themselves reading this:

It’s quite obvious but I need to clarify that I’m changing a lot of stuff from both Avengers and X-Men movies to fit this request. So this is only part one so it’ll manly focus on Peter and the reader BUT I decided to consider him and Pietro as two different characters since they are from different movie universes theorically and since, well, Pietro barely even existed in the Avenger’s universe unfortunaly.

Hope you all enjoy it!

Click to read part 1

Peter was training in the Danger Room with the other X-Men when the Snap happened.

He remembered and dreaded that day for all the years to come.

The despair in the faces of all those mutants. All those kids, turning into dust without even knowing why. He remembered how Kurt’s legs disapeared first, so he fell right at Peter’s feet. Just when the silver haired boy was about to touch him, he completely vanished.

Stay together. Stay strong. Fight this era that is coming. Nev-

Professor Xavier.

He vanished too.

After the Snap only Peter, Jubilee, Raven, Warren and a few other students were left at the school.

The corridors were now empty, the rooms full of dust. They stopped taking care of the gardens. They grieved for their friends. The brothers, sisters, lovers and even those they didn’t get along well.

Peter was shattered once he found out you had vanished as well.

Natasha was the one who came personally to talk to him.

During your stay in Wakanda, while they tried to free Vision, before the invasion, you and her talked a lot. You told her about your fight and as if you were already guessing, you made her promise that if something happened to you, she’d tell him and be there if he needed anything. It was like you knew and Natasha complied, even if she was always brushing it off and saying that it wouldn’t be needed.

When the now blonde haired spy showed herself a month after the Snap in front of the Mansion without you by her side Peter knew.

Natasha walked into the hal, looking at Peter with simpathy but also grieving. Her eyes filled with tears before she could open her mouth and the remaining X-Men knew they had lost yet another friend.

Jubilee broke down sobbing into Raven’s shoulder while Warren left the room angrily.

And Peter...

Peter just stared at Natasha.

Empty.

That’s all he felt.

For the first time, Peter felt like there was no ground to his feet. His head was hammering with memories of you two. Your smile, your voice, your touch. Even though he didn’t had news of you right away there was a hope... a small hope in the back of his mind that you would come through that door, run into his arms and then you’d be together to fight against all of this.

He had to apologize for not having faith in your strenght.

He had to say he loved you.

He had to make things right.

Natasha swallowed the lump in her throat and approached Peter’s frozen frame. She hated physical contact with people she didn’t know outside missions, it was true, but to keep her promise to you she circled him with her arms, hugging him. It took him a moment to finally break down.

When he did his legs buckled and he and Natasha slumped in the ground. Peter was breathing heavly but no tears fell out of his eyes. He whispered things Natasha couldn’t grasp really fast and it took her a moment to understand that he was actually having a panic attack. He was shaking and trying to calm himself, but everytime he thought that he’d never see your face again the despair hit him harder.

During the beginning of the first year it was common for it to happen to him.

He’d wake up on the few nights he was able to actually fall asleep with nightmares of you vanishing from his hands. To calm himself down he’d hold to the ring he carried around in a little neck chain, the ring he gave you in that beautiful day barely a few weeks before you disappeared.

Natasha kept a close look on him and the remaining mutants until she decided it would be better if they just moved in to the Facility. She had a lot of work to do commanding everyone who was outside the planet.

It was empty anyway...

So Peter, Jubilee, Raven and Warren moved there. The other kids went to look for their families but they knew where to find the remaining X-Men if needed.

Natasha and Peter got closer as time went by, always talking about you or how everything was before. She helped him cope with your loss and he help her cope with the disappearence of Clint Barton. He was alive, she knew, but he never came looking for the remaining team. So Peter helped her in the search for him.

Peter changed. A lot.

Everyone did.

He matured a lot in those years.

His hair was shorter and he didn’t really use his flashy jackets and sneakers anymore. Still with the rock band t-shirts at least, but his wardrobe had really sobered up. The only thing that didn’t change in five years was the neck chain with the ring. It became almost like a charm and comfort for him.

When he found out they had a chance to bring everyone back a little bit of the old Peter came back. He tried his best to help all the geniuses during the preparations for the Time Heist - as Scott Lang described - getting more and more hopeful that it would work.

He, Stark, Warren and Rocket became the sarcasm squad and Captain America had to keep them on the line because sometimes the jokes went a little overboard of the respect zone. They’d just shrug and highfive each other earning a smack in the head from Raven and sometimes even Nat.

Raven and Jubilee became as close as Nat and Peter. They became each other’s support and even though they got along especially well with Banner and Steve, they prefered to be in each other’s company, together with Peter and Warren. It hurt everytime they reminisced the past, but somehow they felt that in that way, the memories of their friends would never fade. The four of them would sit for hours and talk about the Mansion, the mutants, the professors and classes. Hell, Peter even found out that you had a crush on him ever since the first time you saw him.

And he would always talk to you before going to sleep. Natasha taught him to do that when his nightmares were to constant and bad. He’d sit by the window or in the corner of his bed and speak as if you were right there with him, while his fingers played around with the ring. You weren’t there, but you kept him strong.

Then finally, the day of the Time Heist came.

Peter stayed on the Facility with the other mutants during the mission because he had had no contact whatsoever with any of the Infinity Stones, so as fast as he could be, they decided it was better for him to stay.

"Hey, you are back!” he and the others rushed towards the Avengers after they appeared again on the plataform.

“Did we get them all?”

“Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Before they could cheer their victory, Clint feel to his knees. That’s when they found out Natasha was gone.

Gone for good.

Peter didn’t cry right away like the others did. But he sure as hell felt it.

He noticed that his tears were weirdly slow.

Natasha had given her life for that plan. For those people she considered as her family and made her better. She did it for you.

While the Avengers discussed if she would come back or not with the power of the Stones, Peter went for a run. It was the only thing that kept his mind working like it should. Whenever he felt like it was about to snap, he’d put on his goggles and run.

He saw in his mind the past five years flashing as the woman who was back to being a redhair and had taken care of him tried to hide her own pain. She had became almost like an older sister and her support was the glue that pieced all the small parts of his heart together.

When he got far enough, on a tall hill, he screamed, his tears finally falling.

That had to work.

Not only for you.

But for her too.

After releasing all his frustration over Nat’s death, he ran back. He sure as hell didn’t want to miss the moment everyone would be brought back.

Banner had the Glove on his hand while everyone prepared for a possible blown. Scott and Rhodey closed their suits, Rocket hid behind Thor and Tony created an energy shield protecting Clint while his armor did the job for him. Raven, Jubilee and Peter were shielded by Warren, who enclosed his metal wings as close as possible of them.

Tony activated a protocol that closed all the doors and windows with heavy metal doors.

“Well... if something happens we burn to death together...” Peter whispered earning a whack in the head from Raven.

Bruce suffered. They all could see the agony and pain until he finally was able to snap his fingers.

As soon as the doors opened, Peter dashed outside, stopping at the garden. He had no idea his breath was stuck on his throat until he finally saw it.

People walking on the streets looking totally lost reaching for their phones, calling family and friends to try and understand what the hell happened. He also saw people hugging, crying, shouting. It was a mess. But everyone was back.

Somewhere you were back for him.

Before he could feel any happiness though, there was a large explosion coming from the Avengers Facility.

Peter rushed there, entering the rubble to search for everyone. Everything was completely destroyed. On his communicator he learned that Rhodey, Bruce and Rocket were on the lower levels and they were flooding really fast. Raven and Jubilee were lost inside of what was left of the Facility and they didn’t know anything about Warren yet.

They tried to help the ones on the lowers levels but there was no way in where they were. The only one able to help them in the end was Scott.

Peter focused on trying to find a way out for Jubilee and Raven, searching for Warren in the proccess. Finally they managed to find the Archangel.

“You have to see what’s going on out there...” he said, blue eyes completely wide, flying towards an exit that probably used to be on an upper floor.

The others climbed through the rubbles, exiting what was left of the building. And couldn’t believe their eyes.

Portals.

Many portals.

Looking at each other quickly, Peter grabbed Raven while Warren carried Jubilee towards where Captain America stood. He nodded at their presence, still dumbfolded as their friends and allies kept showing.

Peter’s breath caught on his throat as he heard a familiar BAMF.

Kurt, Jean, Scott and Ororo.

Jubilee choked out a sob “H-How did you know where to come?”

“We had a little help from Professor...” Jean answered, smiling “Things went crazy, huh? You all... changed a lot...”

Soon Peter’s attention flew back to the portals as Black Phanter shouted something. The mutants watched in amazement as new portals appeared while armies with Wakanda soldier’s, Asgardians and sorceres came out, ready for the battle.

And then finally...

Finally...

He saw you.

His eyes marveled at how you didn’t change a single thing ever since he last saw you. The day you had that stupid fight. Five years had passed and now he barely remembered that. He kept holding into the good memories. You were so beautiful.

When you looked in the direction of Captain America and saw him it felt like your heart would stop. You rushed towards them, holding a huge gun in your hands, S.H.I.E.L.D’s courtesy. You knew you had to focus on the battle first but gosh, you wanted to throw yourself into Peter’s arms so bad. You healead Steve, who was the closest one to you, letting the gun hang in your shoulders through a strap attached to it.

Before you could look at him again, Peter was already by yourside. Instead of speaking or doing anything else he grabbed your hand, squeezing tightly your fingers between his. You nodded, understanding that before anything else, you had a war to win and that was a promise he was making to you.

“Avengers...!” Captain’s voice ringed at your right and you let go of Peter’s hand after a final squeeze, getting your gun ready and preparing your fight stance. Nothing but determination filled your’s and everyone else’s eyes.

Losing was out of question.

“Assemble.”

Click to read part 3

#peter maximoff imagine #peter imagine #quicksilver imagine #peter x reader #gender neutral reader #myimagine #x-men #xmen #x-men imagine #the avengers

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i-write-i-swear · 5 years

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Love at First Sight (Warren Worthington III Imagine)

Hello! So thing is something that I wrote for my friend @septicsadie‘s book on Wattpad. She got a request and wanted me to write it so, here it is! Please let me know what you think and I’m going to try and do requests so let me know if you want something! ~Meg

Ophelia’s POV:

*Ophelia*

*Ophelia wake up*

*Ophelia, I need you and the team in the training area*

*Ophelia!*

I groan as begin to regain consciousness to the sound of both Jean and the professor in my head. I sit up and rub my face trying to wake up when there’s a knock at the door. “What?!” I snap at whoever was on the other side of the door. I hear a slow whistle as my door opens and I roll my eyes.

“Wow. Is that the kind of tone you give to someone who was so gracious as to bring you breakfast?” Peter says, while walking into my room with a plate. I roll my eyes and chuckle at him, taking the bagel off the plate.

“I assume you’re here to make sure I get up and ready?” I ask him while eating. He raises an eyebrow at me a little confused. “Jean and the professor woke me up” I told him.

He nods, “Well you know you women and your hair and whatnot” he says and I scoff at him. “You and I both know for a fact that if you didn’t have your speed you’d take just as long as Jean or I to fix your hair!” I tell him smirking.

“I would not!” he tries to defend himself but just give him a look that says ‘oh really’ and he shuts his mouth. “Tell the professor I’ll be down, just give me like ten minutes” I tell him.

“Yeah, you got it. I’ll tell him 30 minutes” he says smirking. “Peter!” I grab a pillow to throw at him, but he was gone in seconds. I huff and throw the pillow back on my bed. Shaking my head, I finish my bagel and begin getting ready.

Once I’m dressed and ready I begin to make my way to the training area. It’s been a few months since any of us have been down here. After what happened with Apocalypse the professor gave us time off from everything; training, working out, even our school work. It was weird to see everyone so relaxed. After Jean and Magneto rebuilt the school we all had time to just hang out (and laugh at Peter’s struggle in a cast). It was like team bonding. I wonder why the professor would want the whole team to meet down here after all this time. I guess we do have to start training again at some point.

I get to the elevator that will take me down to the sub-level and just before the doors close I hear someone yelling.

“Hold the doors!” Someone yells and I stick my arm between the doors before they close and they open again and I see Ororo step in with me. “That was close” I laugh at her. “Oh shut up! I didn’t want to have to wait for it to come back up” she laughs “Plus I didn’t want to be late” she tells me. “Did Peter come to get you too?” I ask her, she laughs and nods. We sit in comfortable silence until the elevator dings and the doors open.

Warren’s POV:

I stand in the middle of a giant arena-looking room, a girl with red hair is on my right and a guy with red glasses on my left. I remember them from the battle, they both look around the same age as me. Professor Xavier is seated in front of me in his wheelchair getting ready to address the X-Men as to why I am here. I honestly didn’t know why I came here all I know is that I chose the wrong side and now I have to find a way to make it right.

The first person to show up is a woman with short red hair and blue skin and I recognize her immediately as Mystique. Then out of nowhere pops in someone who I wasn’t expecting. It was the teleporter I had to cage fight. The one who destroyed my wings. He looks around the room and makes eye contact with me and goes pale. I look down, not wanting to be reminded of what happened. He looks about ready to jump before the professor says “Please stay, I need you here for this Kurt” and they boy, Kurt looks between the professor and I and nods.

As minutes pass more people show up, but after a while I see the professor and the redheaded girl touch their temples before Mystique turns to a silver haired boy and he speeds away. After a few minutes he appears in the doorway “They’re coming” he says and join the group of teens.

We all wait in very awkward silence and I bounce my led to the tune of The Four Horsemen by Metallica until there is a ding coming from the elevator. I look up to see two girls walking in and my eyes widen. The first stops in her tracks as soon as she sees me but I can’t hold her gaze. It’s Ororo. I hear another voice ask “Ororo are you alright?” I look up to someone I didn’t recognize from the battle and we lock eyes.

Ophelia’s POV:

The elevator doors open and Ororo and I step out and walk towards the training area. Ororo is a bit ahead of me but as soon as she steps foot in the room she stops. I look at her confused and ask her if she’s all right. When she doesn’t respond I follow her gaze to a boy our age with silver wings on his back and our eyes meet and my heart skips a beat.

The professor clears his throat and we all turn towards him, “I’m glad you’re all here, as you may have noticed we have a visitor” He begins. “Everyone, this is Warren Worthington, he will be joining us here at the institute. Now I know you all recognise him from the battle with Apocalypse, but I assure you he is not here to harm anyone. He has decided that he wishes to turn his life around and to do that he should start somewhere that will accept him, no matter what his gift is” he tells us, but the look on Scott’s face told him everything we all were feeling; unease and unsure. “Now I know some of you may have a past with Mr. Worthington, but that does not mean we won’t try to make amends, isn’t that right Kurt?” he asks. The blue mutant looks up and give a curt nod but won’t meet Warren’s or the professor’s eyes.

For a minute everyone is quiet and awkward glances at the boy Warren are exchanged until we hear “Oh come on guys!” and we all turn toward Ororo in surprise. “You seriously being cautious around Warren when you all know that I worked with Apocalypse too!” she exclaims. We watch as she walks towards him, right pass the professor, Jean, and Scott who move out of her way. She holds out her hand, offering him a kind smile, “It’s good to see you again Warren” she tells him. He looks up at her a little confused at first and then smiles back at her, shaking her hand.

“Now, since everyone here wants to be awkward and rude, let me introduce you to everyone” she says leading him a bit closer to our group.”Warren, let me officially introduce you to the X-Men” she says. “You already know the professor, and I’m pretty sure you know who Mystique is” she says gesturing to the two of them. Raven cuts in, “Please call me Raven” she says holding out her hand which he takes. “The two that were in front of you earlier, that is Scott or Cyclops and Jean” she tells him, Scott nods in acknowledgement and Jean gives him a small smile. “This silver haired jerk is Peter or Quicksilver as he likes to be called” she says pointing at Peter, “Hey!” he gasps as if he’s offended, Ororo just rolls her eyes. “Hey man, sorry about the whole ‘fighting’ thing” Peter says, Warren is about to say something but Peter interjects “then again we were on two different sides and we kinda had to…..” he starts to ramble and I smack his arm “Ow! Ok sorry I’ll stop talking now” he says and I roll my eyes. “I think you know Kurt or, as you know, Nightcrawler” she says motioning at the mutant on my left. “And this is Ophelia” she says pointing at me. Warren meets my gaze and I feel my face start to heat up, “I-it’s nice to meet you” I say quietly, holding out my hand. He gives me a kind smile and nods “Yeah” he says. Out of the corner of my eye I see Ororo smirking at me.

♦️♢♦️♢♦️♢♦♢♦️♢♦️♢♦♢♦️♢♦️♢♦

As months past it seemed that everyone started to accept Warren more and more. We have study sessions as a group and train together, in fact it seemed that training and school drove us all closer as a group even if there was still some tension between Kurt and Warren. That also means that Warren and I spend more time together, not that I’m complaining. Other than Ororo and Peter, I was the Only other one that Warren hung out with outside our group activities.I helped him get caught up in classes and Ororo, Peter, and I showed him around the institute.

Ororo and I are sitting on the floor in my room with a puzzle spread out in front of us. Everyone seemed to be so busy today so it was just the two of. “So…” I hear her begin. I already know what she’s going to say because we’ve had this conversation a million times. “When are you finally going to admit to yourself that you like him?!” she exclaims and I sigh. I didn’t need to admit it to myself, I knew. I had fallen for Warren Worthington. Now coming to terms with the fact that he’ll probably never like me, that was different. “Oh come on Ophelia! We all see how you look at him! Why can’t you just say it?” she asks sitting up. “Oh my god Ororo! I don’t like him!” I tell her but even I could tell that wasn’t convincing

“Hmm well what about Kurt?” She asks. I look at and raise an eyebrow. What the hell is she talking about? “Umm what?” I ask and she scoffs. “Oh come on” she says “you’re seriously telling me that there is nothing between you can Kurt?” she asks giving me a look. I shake my head, “what in the world would give you that idea?!” I ask her a little shocked. Sure Kurt and I have gotten closer over the past few months but not in a dating sort of way, he’s one of my closest friends. In fact other than Ororo and Jean, Kurt is the only one I’ve actually told about my feelings for Warren.

“You’re kidding right?” Ororo asks, “There’s nothing going on with you two?” and I shake my head. “He’s like a younger brother to me” I tell her. She sighs and gives me a look, “Whatever you say Ophelia because to people don’t know that it looks like you two like each other” she tells me.

♦️♢♦️♢♦️♢♦♢♦️♢♦️♢♦♢♦️♢♦️♢♦

Warren’s POV:

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to walking into a library to study, it’s not like I did much of that in Germany. I walk in and I see some of the others but they all look preoccupied. Scott was following Jean around the library as she was shelving books. It looks like he’s trying to woo Jean even though he doesn’t need to, she clearly has feelings for him. Peter and Ororo were at a table in the far corner. From the looks of it, Ororo was not having a fun time trying to tutor Peter. I walk over to a table that was a few rows down from where Peter and Ororo were and got out my physics textbook, this is was going to take a while.

Around an hour later of sitting in silence and trying not to fall asleep I hear new voices enter the library. I look up when I hear the angelic laugh that only Ophelia was known to make and I smile. That is until I see who she’s with: Kurt. No matter where she is, she’s always with someone. Whether it’s Ororo and Jean, with Peter, or with Kurt, I never see her hanging out alone. It’s not that I care though, she can hang out with whoever she wants to.

They take a seat at a table a few rows away from me and I return to my homework. I turn the page of the book and try and focus but I can’t. It seems that every time I try to get some work done I here her laugh at something he says. I turn around and look at them and she’s laughing and smiling with him. And that’s when I snap. I slam my textbook closed and stand up. It’s clear my commotion caught the attention of some of the others because when I look up I see Ororo smirking and Peter giving me a thumbs up. I roll my eyes at them and make my way over to where Kurt and Ophelia are seated.

When I stand in front of their table they both look up at me. Kurt looks a little worries but Ophelia looks at me and give a kind smile. “Hey Warren, what’s up?” she asks. I huff, “Why him?” I ask her. Of all people she could have decided on it had to be him?! She looks at me confused and I roll my eyes at her. “Oh come on! You’re really going to try to deny what it clear to everyone? That you and him clearly have feelings for each other!” I say to her getting more upset as this continues. She looks really confused and both her and Kurt look at each other and then back to me. “Umm I think you have the wrong idea” Kurt pipes up and I glare at him. I turn back to Ophelia wanting an explanation. “Warren he’s right you have the wrong idea” she says, she sighs and grabs my hand, “Come on, let's go somewhere else to talk” she says and takes me out of the library and down an empty hall.

She lets go of my hand and leans against the wall. “I don’t like Kurt like that” she says crossing her arms, she won’t look at me. I take a deep breath, “You and him are always hanging out, even apart from the group, but it’s not like you and the girls” I tell her and she nods. “You’re right, we do hangout and it is different from Jean, ororo, and I hanging out” she says, “but it’s not what you think, Kurt… he didn’t have many friends when he first came here, to add to that he’s also not from America so that added another layer of separation he felt when he first got here” she starts to explain. “I started to help him with learning english and understanding our culture, he’s like a little brother to me” She says, “I don’t like him like that, I like someone else” she says and looks up at me. I take a few steps closer to her, “and who might that be?” I ask. I could see her take a breath in and smirk. “W-well I uhh” she stutters and looks down. I lift her chin so that she’s looking at me, “you’re really cute when you’re flustered” I tell her and she blushes. “I- I like you” she states and shuts her eyes as if she’s afraid of what I would say. I smile, “I like you too Ophelia” I say to her and she looks back up at me with wide eyes. I give her a smile and start to lean in, I look at her making sure this was okay. She nods and closes the gap between us.

#x-men #x-men: dark phoenix #warren worthington iii #arch angel #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington the third #warren worthington imagine #x-men oc #x-men oneshot #x-men imagine

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literallyjustanerd · 7 years

Text

In His Eyes (Chapter 8)

School is back in! And yet I somehow managed to write the longest chapter yet!

Genre: Slow build/eventual romance Word count: 5008 Pairing: Nightcrawler/Angel Rating: T+

You can also read this chapter (and all the chapters before it) here!

The night is cold. Cold enough that when Kurt exhales, the air billows out in front of him in a small, translucent cloud. His legs are drawn in close to his chest, his tail hugged tightly around him, and after twenty minutes he has only just lifted his head from where it has been buried into his knees. The moon’s light is weak and milky, but with his eyes he can still see the wind meandering through the tall oak and pine trees that pepper the grounds below him. His lips still feel strange: numb, and not just from the cold. It is as though he can still feel Warren on them, warm, desperate, unexpected, and… welcome? Unwelcome? Kurt still cannot decide. During the brief, fleeting moment they had been locked together, Warren’s hands firmly grasping each of Kurt’s arms just below the shoulder, Kurt’s muscles had turned to melted butter, and he had wondered whether everything was fixed, if everything after the kiss would be the fairy tale he had always secretly wanted he and Warren to be.

But the moment the warmth began to fade, the moment the magic was broken, the all-swallowing pit in his stomach had assured him that no, this wasn’t the part of the story where the protagonist and his love interest finally confessed their true feelings to one another and embraced and kissed and laughed about how foolish they’d been trying to hide it. Instead, it was the part of the story where the protagonist, filled to the point of nausea with a sudden embarrassment and terror, fled the scene, and hid on a roof for twenty minutes to avoid confronting his own feelings, and the feelings of the boy he’d been pining over for months. And now, here he is, huddled against the bitter night, feeling the wind turn the tearstains on his face into small streams of concentrated cold and wondering how he is ever meant to look Warren in the eyes again. Is Warren upset with him for running away? Is he hurt? A sick feeling kicks up in the hollow of Kurt’s chest. Is he angry? He tries to picture Warren in his room, surrounded by the things Kurt had left for him, the evidence of a gesture that now seems childish and unwise. Kurt himself feels childish and unwise. Too unequipped to be in this situation at all. Of course it had burned to the ground.

Fix. Warren had asked Kurt if he thought he was going to fix him. The word lingers in Kurt’s mind, unfolding and reshaping into new and unhappy realisations. Warren thinks of himself as broken, as in need of fixing. Warren thinks that Kurt thinks of him as broken. That, above all, is enough to erase the last of Kurt’s anger, and replace it with something even harder to swallow: regret. Deep, dark, horrible regret, the claws of which tease at his insides, pulling strings now and then to make him remember another cutting remark or lamentable retort he had thrown out in the moments his temper had taken control. He should have stayed. He should have talked to Warren, calmed him, and calmed himself. He should have found a way to defuse the situation. He considers prayer: that is what has always assisted him through these tough situations in the past, steering him towards redemption and reconciliation. But for some reason, he knows that tonight it will be of no help to him. Instead, he lets out a deep sigh, watches the mist of his breath dissolve in front of him, and allows his muscles to relax a little. He will be out here for a while yet, simply because he cannot imagine making himself move from this still, silent reverie. At least here, in the almost ethereal, surreal atmosphere of complete isolation, he can pretend he has only imagined all the events that now plague his thoughts.

You are a fucking idiot. The voice in Warren’s head has been repeating those words, occasionally with different, more scathing words added in. He lies on his bed, splayed uncomfortably on top of his wings and looking up towards the high, faded ceiling. Now and then, another surge of frustration hits him, and he slams a fist into his forehead or kicks the heel of his foot into the wall in anger. The heat of the moment, and the rush of emotions that had come with them have long since passed, leaving him with nothing but a desolate feeling in his stomach. It is as though there is a hole somewhere inside him, and the more he thinks about what he has done, the more he remembers the look on Kurt’s face in the instant before he vanished, he more empty he feels, and without any way to react, the sensation consumes him until it lights every nerve in his chest and fingertips on fire and leaves him to burn alive. The image of Kurt’s face will not leave his mind. His eyes, frantic and defensive, like a cornered animal. He could almost see Kurt searching through his mind and trying to figure out what angle Warren would take now to continue his side of the fight. The look that assumed that whatever Warren had done had to be some new tactic designed to find crueller and more unusual ways to put him down. Imagining the look alone was enough to defeat Warren, to leech all the anger out of him. The idea that Kurt would see him as an assailant, and would see the kiss as some strange new way to hurt him, seethes within his mind and forces him to confront everything he has said to Kurt over the months, every way he had pushed and pulled and otherwise abused the boy’s kind, forgiving nature. If only he had it in him to be able to tell Kurt the truth: he has captivated Warren for months, aroused feelings in him that have confused him to no end. And the kiss? Well, the kiss was the result of too much repressed emotion bubbling over and taking over his conscious mind. Warren drives the heels of his hands deep into his damp eyes, welcoming the pain that blooms out from beneath the sockets. Once more he hears it: you are a fucking idiot. That is the last he can remember before falling into a restless, uneasy sleep.

When the next morning comes, both boys dread facing the real world again. The realm of friends, of amicable teasing and complaints about the usual things like breakfast and homework, seems so far away, and the prospect of pretending to be fine in light of the previous night’s events feels hopeless. Even outside of that, both are acutely aware that part of their argument had been heard by two of their friends, neither of who would have had any qualms in sharing the juicy piece of gossip. And yet, they have no choice, and to avoid arousing suspicion, Kurt forces himself to rise from his bed and dress himself in anticipation of a long, hard day. Warren can get away with not leaving his room: it has been a long, long time since anyone but Kurt has stopped trying to rouse him on the days when he decided he would not face the world of the living. But Kurt has a reputation to keep up. Kurt approaches the table where his friends sit a little later than usual, and immediately knows his efforts to seem light and carefree have been for nought: they are speaking rapidly in hushed tones, talk that ceases the moment Jean catches sight of the blue boy drawing near and chokes off her story mid-sentence. His stomach constricts: how much do they know? He cannot ask – or rather, he will not ask. He does not have it in him to start such confrontations. And so, he sits down with his slice of buttered toast and quartered orange, and tries to tolerate the nausea that accompanies his dread of Warren appearing. Mercifully, in a small reprieve, the meal passes without any sign of him, and Kurt is able to finish eating and slip away from the table before anyone can work up the courage to ask him a question. Scott watches carefully as Kurt leaves the dining hall, tail almost literally between his legs, reminiscent of a hurt puppy in demeanour. He loses himself to thought and speculation, and Peter has to repeat himself twice before he finally gets any attention. “He didn’t show up in our room until late last night,” he says, gaze shifting from the closing doors back to Scott. “No?” Scott replies. “Nope. Had no idea where he was. He was gone when I fell asleep, there by the time I woke up.” “Hm.” “Any idea what might’ve happened?” Scott frowns, eyes still stuck in the middle distance “No. None.”

It is almost not a lie. While he knows as much as anyone else at the table about what specifically took place between Kurt and Warren the previous night, he is at an advantage being the only one to know about the subtext between the two, at least from Kurt’s side. In his mind, a scene takes form: Warren accusing, insulting, denigrating, and Kurt cowering, meekly defending, wishing he had just stayed quiet. As the conversation at the table turns to wondering just what the pair could have been fighting over, Scott rises from his seat and sets his sights on the door. Past the crowd, through the doors, up the main stairs as his footsteps echoed through the empty, cavernous foyer, and along the hallway towards Warren’s room Scott takes himself, fuelled by a deep-down desire to protect his friend. The sound of a heavy bass line and screaming guitar grows louder as he approaches: a clear sign that Warren is in no mood to attend classes today. As he goes to reach for Warren’s doorknob, he feels a momentary breeze, and Peter is next to him, leaning back against the wall on the opposite side of the door. “What are we doing?” he asks casually. “Get lost, burnout.” “Whoa. I’m not the one messing with other people’s private affairs. I’m Kurt’s roommate and you don’t see me trying to fight his battles for him.” “You don’t get it.” “What’s there not to get?” Scott drops his arms to his sides in annoyance. “It’s nothing. Not my place to say.” “Ah, come on, tight ass. Let me in on it.” His insistence brings on a sigh. A deep one. He can tell Peter is not about to let up: for someone who can get most things done in a fraction of a second, Peter is relentlessly patient when it comes to gossip.

“Kurt has… a bit of a thing for Warren,” he says carefully. Instantly, Peter’s eyebrows rise with the new revelation, a smile spreading across his face like a child who has just successfully snuck into somewhere they do not belong. In the pause before Peter speaks again, the screeching and wailing of the music stops, leaving a brief moment of silence before the next song begins and the two boys are afforded the cover of noise once more. “Really? What sort of thing?” “I don’t know,” Scott says shortly. “Just a thing. He told me about it the day Warren started flying again.” “So you think this fight they’ve had is about that?” Peter asks, turning to face the doorway as Scott folds his arms and shrugs in response. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m here to find out.” “God, please tell me you’re gonna go in there and try to intimidate him into talking to Kurt. I so want to see that.” “What?” Scott frowns under his glasses, and Peter is already on thin ice. The boy across from him grins, daring Scott to argue the point, and demonstrate himself as not just a “stick-in-the-mud,” but uptight about it as well. Left at a stalemate, Scott gives a heavy sigh and knocks firmly on the door. Predictably, there is no response, and Scott knocks louder. When more time passes and the two boys are still left waiting, Peter decides to take matters into his own hands. “Warren! Open up, jerkface!” The music dims, the bed creaks, and heavy footsteps sound as Warren approaches the door, swinging it open with a look that instantly shatters all Scott’s hopes of appearing imposing. He says nothing, instead shifting his eyes from Scott to Peter expectantly. His eyes looks sunken and slightly out of focus. If his visitors didn’t know better, they could swear the redness and puffiness in his eyes suggested tears.

Peter looks from Warren to Scott pointedly, cocking an eyebrow in an attempt to remind Scott of his purpose. Scott shakes himself out of his own thoughts and clears his throat, trying to scrape together the conviction to seem authoritative. “I want to know what happened with you and Kurt,” he states, emulating his best teacher voice. Warren rolls his eyes and goes to shut the door, but Peter’s foot blocks his path. He makes a mock tutting sound, smirking like the whole situation was a game. “Come on, Angel,” he jostles. “We just want to help.” “I don’t want you guys to help. This isn’t your business.” “You made it our business when you did something to hurt Kurt,” rallies Scott, glad to have found a place to revive his original intention. But the surge of confidence is short-lived when Warren scoffs. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he dismisses in little more than a mumble. The idea that Scott would have the gall to come to him as Ororo had previously, and to talk to him like a concerned school counsellor, ignites a small flame of anger in Warren, and considering the unfamiliar and uncomfortable rollercoaster the past day has been, it is at least a comfort to return to something he is used to. “So why don’t you tell us what we’re talking about?” Peter cuts in before Scott can reply, and all this suggestion earns him is a harsh glare from Warren, a wordless answer to his question. “Look, I don’t know what you assholes think you’re doing letting yourself into me and Kurt’s business, but you’re not going to play mediator with us. Stay the fuck out of it.” Scott’s eyes narrow, and in a movement that comes off as slightly childish and unconvincing, he steps forward towards Warren, lowering his tone to one that he hopes is at least a little threatening. “Listen, buddy,” he begins, and even Peter has to suppress as smirk at how obviously put together the line sounds. “I don’t give a damn about you or your side of this. I care about Kurt. And since, for reasons I still can’t find, he wants to keep trying to bring out whatever worthwhile thing he sees in you, I’m making it my job to make sure he doesn’t get hurt more than he already has been.” Silence sets in. None of the three boys seem to know how to continue without breaking the roles they have set for themselves. Eventually, Warren lets out a heavy, tired sigh and closes the door in one sharp, jerky movement. After a beat, the music is turned up once more, and Scott and Peter are left standing outside the door as though they had merely imagined Warren’s entire, brief appearance.

“What a jerk,” Peter finally says, in a tone so casual and blasé that even Scott has to smirk. “You gotta wonder what Kurt sees in him,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets as he begins down the hall. Peter gives a shrug as he follows. “Maybe it’s just physical.” “Can you imagine Kurt liking someone just for their looks?” “Yeah, you’re right. He’s too goody-goody for that sort of thing.”

In Warren’s room, far from the unfeeling and uncaring brick wall Scott and Peter have just spoken to, Warren is wearing a thoughtful, solemn frown, replaying Scott’s words over and over in his head. The anger at his overconfident and under-practiced demeanour has subsided, or rather has been eclipsed by an intense need to known just what motivated Scott’s words. Kurt wants to keep trying. Kurt sees something worthwhile in him. He dimly wonders whether he should change the words in his mind to wanted and saw, but he does not want to approach the thought directly. In the time since the previous night, he must admit he has spent an amount of time planning words he never truly intended to say to Kurt, scripting apologies and explanations and confessions that were supposed to make things better, or at least earn him a second –no, it had to be fiftieth by now, at least– chance. Now, however? While he still believes he could never say out loud the exact words that had been part of his fantasy conversations, the prospect of speaking to Kurt begins to drift back into the realm of possibility. After all, wasn’t it the persistently happy, forgiving, fluid and flexible nature of Kurt that had fascinated Warren in the first place? And couldn’t he try to replicate that, to try and earn Kurt’s trust back? It still seems optimistic, something that hardly fits into the complex puzzle that forms Warren’s psyche, but maybe that is what he needs right now. An action that defies all the rules set by his previous self, that marks a real change into something better than himself. Into something that maybe, just maybe, could be deserving of Kurt’s time and –dare he say it– his affections. But, unsurprisingly, these thoughts are soon beaten down by the same dark force that has kept him from deviating from his usual ways for years. Just as always, Warren is left in the purgatory between wanting to act and being too scared of the outcome to make a move. He writhes on his bed in indecision for lengths of time he cannot know, then paces his room back and forth, reaching for the doorknob a thousand times but never going further. The music he had been playing has long since run out as he perches on his desk chair and restlessly bounces his leg, pent up emotions and desires festering and itching under his skin. By the time lunch finally comes around, the build has become too much, and Warren moves quickly, decisively, leaving his room with the door still open behind him and striding down the hallway with long and slightly hasty steps. There is an extremely small window of opportunity here, and if he misses it, he knows his willpower will be doomed to disintegrate altogether. He reaches Kurt’s door, slowing down subconsciously as he nears it. As the inside of Kurt’s room comes into view, the lines in the script he has frantically written in his head suddenly become jumbled and inarticulate. The door is open, and when he takes one more step forward to peer in and sees that he has made it, his heart still clenches anyway. Peter has already been and gone, depositing his books carelessly on his bed and whizzing off down to the dining hall for lunch. Kurt, however, takes his time, setting his books on his desk and sorting through what work he will have to do that afternoon. He does not notice Warren behind him, observing the way he moves, taking in every detail. There is something missing from him today; he moves more reluctantly, without the energy or fluidity that usually drive his gestures. Even his eyes seem to be duller today, and Warren’s heart plunges through his stomach at the realisation that the reason for his expression is Warren’s own actions. As the seconds wear on, and Warren hears the telltale sound of footsteps climbing the stairs, he shakes himself from his thoughts, and takes the plunge, clearing his throat to alert the boy opposite him to his presence.

Kurt jumps, shocked from his thoughts by the realisation that he is not alone, and for a moment he teleports instinctively away, reappearing in his room after spending a split second outside on the lawn. He looks through his own cloud of deep purple smoke, seeing the figure of Warren in his doorway, and feels a dizzying mix of hope and dread. It is plain to see that Warren is agitated, too, and Kurt is unsure how exactly to react to his sudden presence. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and it takes an eternity for Warren to realise that he will have to offer an explanation himself, since Kurt has no way to request one. “Wanna talk?” he mumbles, hands balling into fists and shoved into his pockets. As he speaks, his eyes flick repeatedly between Kurt and the floor, between where he wants them to be and where his instincts direct them. Kurt does not know exactly what it is that makes him nod, that makes him point to his neatly-made bed and close the door behind Warren as he slinks into the room and sits down on the edge of the bedspread. His wings shift nervously, settling and resettling against his back, unable to find a position that would relieve his discomfort. Kurt hesitates before he sits down, shifting over to put a little more distance between himself and Warren. Both boys look forward, finding a patch of wall or carpet to stare at in lieu of looking at each other. “You been okay?” Warren asks presently. Kurt lifts his shoulders in response. “I’ve been fine.” “Good.” There is a certain insincerity to Warren’s tone, and he knows Kurt can hear it, but he does not know how to make it go away. Neither comments on it, lacking the conviction or the willpower, or both.

“So… You want to talk. Let’s talk,” Kurt sighs, breaking the thick silence. “Where do we start?” At being given a direct question to answer, and at being spoken to with the manner of a lost schoolchild, Kurt summons the drive to give a direct reply, and to make a solid demand for answers to the many questions he has been agonising over. “Why did you kiss me?” Though taken aback at first, Warren is glad to surrender his part in directing the conversation, and sinks a little further forward, forearms on his knees, in preparation to respond. Willing his words past the dam in his throat, he speaks. “Because I wanted to.” “Because you wanted to what?” “Because I wanted to kiss you.” Kurt makes a soft humming sound. “Your timing was a little off.” Surprisingly enough, his remark draws a faint laugh from Warren, a mere sharpened breath of a laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. “Yeah… No shit.”

Outside, the sky is above the mansion is dark, heavily overcast with only sparse patches of blue between the cloud cover. When Warren looks up at Kurt and sees him gazing into the sky outside, he turns his head to face the window as well, and with a newfound resolve, scrapes together a few words from the many mental essays he has written for Kurt. “Look, I’m an idiot. You know that by now, right? You have to.” An uneasy frown takes over Kurt’s sharp, angular features, but as he opens his mouth to reply, Warren holds up a hand to stop him. “I’ve treated you like crap. I’ve treated you worse than crap, and you didn’t deserve any of it.” Warren allows himself a private smile, and with his eyes in his lap he is unable to see that Kurt is now staring intently at him. “Hell, you’re probably the one around here who deserves to be treated the best.” Already, something is different. The light in the room takes on a new quality, polished and crystallised by Warren’s forthright words. No longer is there a haze of uncertainty between the two, intertwining with and distorting their feelings and intentions. Kurt feels as though he is seeing Warren anew, just as he had on the day that he had first seen him take to the sky. Though he wants to speak, Kurt stays silent, sensing that there is still more Warren wants to say. Sure enough, with a deep breath to support his sudden surge of sincerity, the winged boy continues. “I’m so sorry, Kurt. I should have been upfront with you from the start. I’m just… I’m like poison, I guess.” Warren clenches his fists, and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. Kurt has never before noticed just how striking Warren’s eyes are. A pale, milky blue, with small flecks of darker grey towards the centre. They are pained now, sorrowful, and Kurt’s heart aches as he quickly finds himself getting lost in them and in the mournful sadness in his words. “Any time I get close to people I just end up hurting them. I’ve never been able to make a friend or have a relationship that didn’t go to shit because of me freaking out about them getting too close. Ever since I was a kid, from my asshole father to everyone after.”

It takes a long time for Kurt to find the proper words to reply. He has always known that Warren took the sort of image of himself that belonged in an angsty teen drama, but to hear him say the words out loud is confronting, and it hurts Kurt as deeply as any of Warren’s insults. His instincts tell him to do whatever he can to soothe Warren, to take him into his arms and comfort him, but his conscious mind knows that this is not what Warren needs right now. Coddling will do nothing for him – it is real, genuine talk that stands a chance at helping him. Warren, meanwhile, feels a magnificent weight lift off his chest, leaving him feeling free in the same way he did in the air. Never had he imagined that the one thing he had always detested, always avoided as though it would be his death, would feel so fantastic. The sensation is addictive, and Warren suddenly feels the intense urge to spill out every last word that lies within his still extremely full mind. “I’ll admit that the way you treated me hurt,” Kurt begins softly, breathily, and Warren returns to reality immediately. “It hurt a lot. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve a second chance. You’ve been through a lot. You still need help with some things.” “Would you still be willing to offer that help?” Warren feels foolish for asking, especially in such a pathetic, sentimental tone. But this shame evaporates when Kurt gives a small, inward smile that sets off an involuntary flutter in Warren’s chest. Gradually, Kurt begins to realise that the space he had put between he and Warren is too much, and quite diffidently, he shifts over the bedspread, stopping with just a little more than an inch between his own leg and Warren’s. “Would… Would you be willing to accept it?” Too distracted by the sudden closeness of the boy he’d been all but obsessed with for weeks, Warren cannot reply in words. His throat goes stiff, and all he can think about is the fantastic warmth radiating from the boy, and how badly he wants to feel more of it. He musters a nod, a slow but assured gesture. Moments pass, though to the two boys on perched on the edge of Kurt’s bed, they may as well have been on a different planet, one completely their own.

It is Kurt this time that closes the distance between them and presses his lips to Warren’s. Softly, tentatively, nothing like the unplanned and haphazard kiss of the previous night. Kurt slips his hand into Warren’s, who responds by lacing his five fingers snugly into Kurt’s three, his eyes still closed as he returns the gentle, tender pressure. A shudder ripples down his spine and along his wings as he feels Kurt’s other hand against the back of his neck, grazing against him so lightly before it lands that it sends tingles sprawling across his skin. Feeling the intuitive desire to return the gesture, he lifts his free hand and, with eyes still shut tight, lets it feel its way across the bedspread until it finds Kurt’s side. It moves upwards painfully slowly, caressing Kurt’s arm and bringing out an intensely satisfying shudder from the boy as he softens further into the kiss.

When at last the two part, each one is giddy and smiling, and neither one has any intention of fleeing the scene for any other reason than to run to the nearest rooftop and yell to the world what has just happened. Both too caught up with each other, neither knows how much time passes before one of them finally decides to break the quiet. “I never thought you’d actually…” Kurt breathes, his fingers still tightly knitted with Warren’s. He does not even need to finish before Warren nods in agreement. “Me neither.” The two share an open, breathless smile, cheeks flushed hot, and in Warren’s case, bright red. The skin on the back of his neck is cold now, already missing Kurt’s touch. He is struck by another impulse, and acts on it with a smile, leaning in and pecking Kurt on his temple. Kurt smiles in response, the expression as bright as a star and as warm as the sun. He lays his head on Warren’s shoulder, his tail subconsciously curling around Warren, the spade gliding back and forth over the place where Warren’s hip meets his thigh. Left undisturbed in Kurt’s room, the two of them sit for as long as they can together, savouring the perfection of the moment and hoping that nothing would come to end it before they were good and ready to leave each other’s side.

#yay i finally updated #sorry to keep everyone waiting #in his eyes #nightangel #nightcrawler #angel #archangel #Warren Worthington #warren worthington iii #kurt wagner #x-men #x-men: apocalypse #comics #marvel #fic #drabble #fanfiction #xmen

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Links 8/2/19

Digital Elixir Links 8/2/19

Curving – Dog Body Language Silent Conversations

Just 10% of fossil fuel subsidy cash ‘could pay for green transition’ Guardian (original).

Greenland Is Melting Away Before Our Eyes Rolling Stone

The Bizarre, Peaty Science of Arctic Wildfires Wired (Re Silc).

Hawaii Extends Thirty Meter Telescope Permit Amid Protests NPR

Syraqistan

U.S. preparing to withdraw thousands of troops from Afghanistan in initial deal with Taliban WaPo

Brexit

UK faces potential ‘consumer panic’ and ‘security gaps’ under no-deal Brexit, says government document Sky News. With handy, hitherto unpublished chart prepared for the May government.

Gilets Jaunes gather for third “Assembly of Assemblies” ROAR

Emmanuel Macron’s Place in French History? Are You a Yellow Vest? This seems to be the only English-language site focusing exclusively on the gilets jaunes; I’d be interested to know what local readers think of it. (The contrast between coverage of the Hong Kong protesters and coverage of the yellow vests and is remarkable, considering that the latter are at “Acte 37.”)

Inside the Yellow Vests: What the Western media will not report (Part 3) The Saker

China?

Trump says Hong Kong ‘riots’ are a matter for China FT

Hong Kong government warns employees to remain neutral or face consequences on eve of civil servant rally over extradition bill crisis South China Morning Post

Nudge theory:

China's Hong Kong PLA garrison releases video with scenes of 'anti-riot' operations https://t.co/6alAYJ2KQp pic.twitter.com/jFwYa5MUPK

— Reuters Top News (@Reuters) August 1, 2019

On the question of whether the Hong Kong protests are a US-sponsored “color revolution,” alert NC reader MsExPat threw this over the transom:

The line about foreign interference is Beijing boilerplate. Everyone here knows it’s bullshit. Laughable. Beijing is parroting it over and over again for two reasons:

1) It diminishes the agency of and infantilizes Hong Kong people. They are misguided and deluded poor children that couldn’t possibly challenge China unless they had outside help.

2) It’s aimed at the domestic China audience, to pump up China nationalism, which is what the CPC does to keep itself in power. You know, economy slumps, let’s start Japanese bashing.

Is there any chance that there could be some truth in it? It’s a ridiculous thought, but let’s assume it isn’t for the sake of argument. Well, I do live here. We (I mean the US) really are not that good as Lambert has pointed out. On the ground what that means is that we don’t have the kind of deep bench that would give us any ability to maneuver inside the protest movement. The US (and certainly not the CIA) doesn’t have enough young, colloquial Cantonese speakers for one thing. Canada would have a much easier time “directing” the pro dem movement just because their links to Hong Kong are much more recent and stronger! So let’s blame the Canadians haha.

Let’s look at some other evidence: Just before he left for a new post in June, the US Counsel in Hong Kong, Kurt Tong, planned to give a farewell speech highly critical of the current HK government. He was throttled by Trump and ended up having to place his speech somewhere as an op ed instead. That hardly speaks to US involvement in the protests!

The only US connections that the protest movement has consistently been able to count on are a handful of principled anti-Communists in the House and Senate, led by Marco Rubio, who has been a champion for Hong Kong for years now. I respect him for that. He may be a turd in other ways, but he clearly has one or two unwavering principles that don’t relate to donor money or votes. I’m sure supporting Hong Kong is not going to get him any votes in Florida.

The only place that “foreign influence” might be helping Hong Kong protesters is through financial support. But it would not be much $ and it would be funneled through Hong Kong anti-Beijing businessmen like Jimmy Lai, who donates to the pan-Dems generously anyway.

The biggest source of foreign money involved in the protests, though, is coming from Beijing. It’s Beijing who pays for the triads, pays for the cooperation of Hong Kong’s business tycoons, pays for the propaganda and dirty tricks of the DAB (the proxy Beijing party in Hong Kong), pays for the propaganda on TVB (the top broadcast station) pays to control the print media (although Jack Ma bought the SCMP, he’s just their puppet). Any tiny trickle of money that might be going to protesters from small US or UK donations is a piss in the ocean compared to the floods of cash that Beijing pumps in to get its way in Hong Kong. And yet still the Hong Kong people are fighting, and successfully. Doesn’t that tell you something?

* * *

What China’s defence paper tells us about Beijing’s regional ambition The Interpreter

Trump says he’ll put 10% tariffs on remaining China imports AP

K-Pop’s Big China Problem Foreign Policy

Puerto Rico

Trump administration to place new restrictions on billions in aid for Puerto Rico amid island’s political crisis WaPo

Leading indicators. Thread:

I'm seeing a lot of English-language retrospectives of the #RickyRenuncia uprising that leave out two incidents that, in my estimation, were key. First: the fire in front of Fortaleza the night of the 15th.https://t.co/PrFTOiyDCi

— midnucas #PierluisiTraidor (@midnucas) July 28, 2019

New Cold War

Trump Calls Putin To Offer Help Battling Siberian Fires Radio Free Europe

Has a Color Revolution Come to Russia? Probably Not. The National Interest

Landmark US-Russia arms control treaty is dead AP

Pillars of nuclear arms control are teetering FT

RussiaGate

The rise and fall of superhero Robert Mueller Matt Taibbi, UntitledGate. “The whole narrative is the brainchild of Clinton hacks, a handful of overzealous intelligence nuts, and a subset of the Democratic Party’s weakest elected minds, in particular murine ex-prosecutor Schiff, a man who should be selling Buicks back in his hometown Burbank.” You hate to see it.

Here Are 5 Big Holes in Mueller’s Work Aaron Maté, RealClearInvestigations

Justice Department Declines to Prosecute Comey Over Leaked Memo Bloomberg. Of course they did.

Trump Transition

Divided Senate passes 2-year budget deal with military boost Defense News (Re Silc).

Pentagon puts $10B contract on hold after Trump swipe at Amazon Politico

Hacked Emails Show GOP Demands on Border Security Were Crafted by Industry Lobbyists The Intercept

Border Patrol Detained a 9-Year-Old American Girl on Her Way to School for 32 Hours GQ. She had her passport with her.

Opinion: Trump’s cuts to food stamps are indefensible, economically and morally MarketWatch

‘Should Send Shockwaves Across the Nation’: Grave Warnings as McConnell Accelerates Right-Wing Takeover of US Courts Common Dreams (DK).

Democrats in Disarray

Democrats: ‘Moscow Mitch’ would take blame for clearing Trump of impeachment charges McClatchy. “Moscow Mitch,” ffs [puts head in hands].

Demography and the Populists’ Destiny The American Conservative

2020

Imagining a Warren-Buttigieg, or Buttigieg-Warren, Ticket Nicholas Kristof, NYT

Tim Ryan told Bernie Sanders that Medicare-for-all would be bad for unions. Major union leaders disagree. Vox

Canadians worried by plan to let Americans import drugs Business Insider (Re Silc).

Our Famously Free Press

In Rejecting DNC Lawsuit Against Wikileaks, Judge Strongly Defended First Amendment Rights of Journalists Shadowproof (Furzy Mouse).

Big Brother Is Watching You Watch

AI lie detector developed for airport security FT. “One challenge is false positives: a machine might register as suspicious a microexpression if someone is in pain or confused.” Highly unlikely in airports.

Cops Are Giving Amazon’s Ring Your Real-Time 911 Caller Data Gizmodo

L’affaire Joffrey Epstein

Jeffrey Epstein Shows No Sign Of Injuries, Could Spend A Year In Jail Before Trial Forbes

Real Hedge-Fund Managers Have Some Thoughts on What Epstein Was Actually Doing New York Magazine. From two weeks ago, still germane. Not sure the hedgies are right, though!

America’s DIY Phone Farmers Vice

Class Warfare

California’s largest teachers union spent $1 million a month to restrict charter schools Sacramento Bee

High Profile Labor Leader Has a New Gig Fighting Against Teacher’s Unions Portside. Andy Stern. Of course. I remember how hard Stern’s SEIU fought against single payer in 2009-2010.

Weaponized Interdependence: How Global Economic Networks Shape State Coercion International Security

Antidote du jour (via):

See yesterday’s Links and Antidote du Jour here.

Links 8/2/19

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