Anonymous asked: im so glad ive found someone who is also committed to erik and charles's tragic friendship i have been alone for so long
*tosses aside all other obligations* MY NEW BUDDY, I AM SO COMMITTED. I just. I’ve been a devotee of the tragic friendship since I was seven years old, okay, I’m not going to just wake up one day a shipper, and the tragic friendship is SO GOOD, Christ. Help me. And since I am SO UNSPEAKABLY THRILLED to have someone in my inbox talking to me about the tragic friendship, I had to figure out a way to show my appreciation, so HERE HAVE A FIC. I rustled up an old request from this prompt list at the start of the summer, so @littlestartopaz sorry it took me like six months. Also this is like long as fuck, taking place in the same movie-comics bastardization universe as the limitations of wax as an adhesive, so I’ll probably crosspost it to AO3.
Alone in the Light
X - Charles/Magneto
friendship (“You’re the only one I trust
to do this.”)
Erik was asleep. Charles couldn’t
feel his mind—was the man sleeping in
that helmet now? But even Erik Lensherr
needed sleep and a cursory sweep through the outermost thoughts of Erik’s
Brotherhood answered the question of his location.
I’m sorry, Charles told the
girl whose mind he was brushing up against.
She was young, a recent recruit, bilingual, with the keening,
perpetually frightened mind of someone not in control of their powers. Gentle, he assessed as he pushed further into
her mind, reaching to speak with her.
Not made for this violence. No
true animosity against humans, but nowhere else to go, either. A missing twin brother? I’m so
sorry, Wanda, I need to speak with him.
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So I started this the HOUR I got out of X-Men Apocalypse and then I got busy and it sat mostly-finished in my documents for like a month and a half and then I finished it and now it’s sat COMPLETELY finished in my documents for about two and a half weeks. But I finally got around to posting it. Warnings for…standard X-Men-level violence, body horror, social prejudice, and general jackassery, and also for rampant abuse of parentheticals. Crossposted to AO3 here.
So
this is how it starts.
He
comes around and the first thing he realizes is that his head is clear, really
clear, for the first time in…a while. Might be days.
Might be weeks. Good fucking job, he tells himself while
he’s still working up the courage to move.
Stranger danger, dumbass. Especially when the strangers in question are
blue and pop out of mysterious purple bubbles, apparently. To give himself due credit, he’s pretty sure
he tried to leave the blue stranger in the dust—the guy’s name is elusive,
something ancient, something translated roughly as ‘Apocalypse,’ and isn’t that
just menacing as hell.
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For @littlestartopaz: Rogue/anyone really, with AN (“Have I
entered an alternate universe or did you just crack a smile for me?”) from this
post
Remy
LaBeau, it’s gonna be Remy La-Fucking-Beau, because I am shipper trash and
Rogue/Gambit is my hill to die on, y’all.
Also, since Rogue’s life sucks PRETTY BAD, I’m going to try to write
actual fluff tonight. This could be
almost any continuity—I’m kind of visualizing the potential future of the MacAvoy,
Fassbender, et. al. movies, because I saw Apocalypse twice in a week and
that’ll do stuff to you. I don’t really
like writing out accents, so feel free to mentally sub them in—Rogue’s from
Mississippi, Remy’s from New Orleans, in case you didn’t know.
“Oh m’God, who’s
cooking, that is amazing,” Rogue
called as she swept into the mansion and was hit by a wall of smoky-sweet warmth
spilling from the kitchen. “Is that jambalaya? Am I gonna have to do extra Danger Room
sessions or somethin’ for that?”
“That depends, ma chérie,” the man at the stove said,
turning and shooting her a smirk.
“What’re you prepared to do?”
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Anonymous asked: I saw you were doing mini fics for Marvel and I thought you mentioned something about being a huge X-Men nerd in the past. Any chance you could write something short and fluffy for Kitty and Colossus? If not I totally understand but!!! Yeah!!!
All right, let’s fucking GO, Kitty/Piotr is everything to me, the dearth of fic is painful. Pertinent details are as follows. Movie-verse (and honestly FUCK the whole Kitty/Bobby plot, I do what I want) because otherwise this is gonna be obscure as shit. Timeline: right after the mansion is stormed by Stryker in the second movie, after Logan orders Piotr to get as many kids out as possible. For reference, he does, and takes as many students as he can get his hands on out into the forest, per the novelization. We’re going to pretend that they actually cast someone Russian for Piotr. Canon ages, so Kitty’s 16, Piotr’s 20.
Kitty sighed and leaned back against the tree, wishing that she could slide down to the ground. It was dark outside, especially almost a mile into the forest behind the mansion, and the adrenaline was making her hands tremble. She just…wanted to sit for a while, or go back to sleep and wake up from this nightmare. But, of the ten students she’d managed to get out, she was the only one who was a full member of the team, and the others needed her to be an X-Man.
“Shadowcat?” Rahne asked, tugging gently on her sleeve. Her eyes flashed in the moonlight, tossing back the glow like something wild. “Are you a'right?”
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