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Stalemate(s)

“Let me sit under the shades for a while. I’ve been cooped up inside the study for too long.” The headmaster gave her a reassuring smile as the Omega-Level Telepath put her hand on his shoulder with a firm squeeze before she departed to get back to her tasks for the day.

Distant chatters from the junior year students rang from across the lake, while Bobby and Remy LeBeau paired with one another to a parkour course around the mansion as well as utilizing their powers to gain the upper hand.

Logan is off at the side under the Willow, lying atop one of the thicker branches with something nursed in his mouth while lecturing the students there with him about some fun facts of the first-hand history lessons he can share with them.

Katherine phased herself through the mansion from ground level to reach the antenna above following Henry’s instructions.

Scott led a caravan of The Gold Team members in a leisure run around the backyard garden.

“Such a peaceful illusion you’ve cast for them, old friend.” A familiar voice greeted him from behind, and it brought a sad smile to the headmaster’s lips. Erik Lehnsherr made himself known only to the Optimist and not everyone else as he cast his narrowed eyes onto the ignorant occupants of Xavier’s estate. “How are you feeling? The headache’s gone?”

“Mostly,” Charles nodded along with the answer, observing the tall man dressed in a deep burgundy shirt and a long coat with curiosity in his eyes.

“Speak your mind, Charles,” Erik teased him while tapping his index at the side of his temple where a ridge of something hiding underneath the skin was prominent enough for searching eyes.

“How are you?” the headmaster smiled softly as he asked the question, and averted his eyes following the Survivor’s gaze. A pair of black and white swans, Valet and Baroness lazily sauntered about upon the lake’s surface under the warm sunlight.

“Bother me with such a mundane query, truly?” Erik retorted lightheartedly, parting his coat aside to put his left hand inside a pocket “…What do you say to a game?”

“Right now?” Charles averted his eyes to the decorative chessboard with a full set of pieces made from steel.

“No time’s like the present.” With little to no effort, Erik reset the pieces to their appropriate places on the tables “Who should go first?”

“I won the last time, so you.” Charles smiled warmly and bowed to his friend a little.

“Very well,” Magneto chuckled with a slight shaking of his head then he asserted his mastery of magnetism so subtly that Charles could barely feel it. “White pawn takes D-4,” he announced to the headmaster and moved the piece silently with his power.

“I follow with D-5,” Charles informed the tall man and the piece complied.

“Pawn to C-4,” Magneto announced.

“I would like to decline the invitation, old friend; Pawn to E-6.”

“Ever the cautious mind.” Erik praised with a chuckle, then made the next move “Knight to F-3.”

“Black Knight to F-6,” Charles calmly followed along with the strategy deployed earlier by the Master of Magnetism.

“Another Knight to C-3,”

“Rook takes E-7.”

“Very well; Rook C-1 to F-4.” A ghost of a smile graces the long-haired man’s lips as he quietly studies the next move while the man in the wheelchair silently watches. “How further do your…disciples, have to wait in the shadows for a chance of freedom?”

“Not too long,” Charles replied, thinking for a little before speaking again “Knight B-8 to D-7,”

“Speculatively, I presume?”

“Hopeful would be a better terminology, my friend.”

“What is hope but a fool’s dream?” Erik retorted and moved his piece, then he waited for the bald headmaster.

“It is a sustenance of the soul,” Xavier paused for a little before informing the opposing party of his intention “…with it, a man can move a mountain.”

“Many of us can do the same without lifting a finger, Charles. Do not apply lowly sapiens’ words to our kind; it’s degrading.” Magneto flicked his wrist softly and the piece moved according to his will.

“We share the World with them, Erik.”

“As were once the Dinosaurs and the Mammalians,” The Jewish survivor shrugged his shoulders dismissively at his friend’s reasoning “until nature runs its course,”

“Erik, I implore you; do not forsake your human—"

“It died a long time ago, Charles.” Erik finished his latest move and averted his eyes toward the worried man in a wheelchair next to him “And the humans you cherish so tortured it off of my heart.”

“You might wish that to be the truth, my friend…” The headmaster ignores the ongoing chess game to fully address the man standing under the shade with him; a man who was once the caring and loving headmaster of the Institute “…but even then, the contradiction to that statement still exists in Wanda Maximoff.”

“I wouldn’t even care if she were to be born a human,” Erik said with untamed pain in his voice, a glance revealed the confused expression on the bald telepath, which brought a smirk upon the corner of his lips. “Curious as to why I am not bothered by your information?”

Now, both forego the match and just contemplate one another, standing closer than they have in years yet so far apart it might as well be a call from across the globe.

“…Promise me that you won’t harm him.” The prominent eyebrows on his forehead drawn into one another, paired with a determination shining through his posture were enough to give the Master of Magnetism a deeply endearing chuckle.

“Charles,” Erik shook his head slowly in mockery “Who did you take me for?” his eyes cast away until they landed on one of the people living at the mansion, and then those sharp eyes turned briefly into longing. “…Anna-Marie and Mister Wagner are like siblings, what kind of a father would I be if I intentionally hurt one of them?”

Magneto let the silence stretch on as he watched Anna-Marie interact with Kitty and Eleanor, seemingly trying to come up with a formation to rival Colossus’s and Wolverine’s Fastball Special.

“…I hope,” Erik smirked a little at the contradiction he had brought upon himself “that your students are prepared, my friend.” That statement sent a shiver down Xavier’s spine.

“Erik—”

“Save the speech, old friend,” Magneto smiled sadly at the telepath and started walking out of the shades while looking up at the sky, closing his eyes to take in a deep inhale of fresh air into his lungs “and convince your children to join me in a quest for the future of our kind.” With arms casually stretched to the sides, Erik levitated himself off the Institute’s ground before shooting off to the South while cocooning himself in a field of magnetism.

“Magneto!” Scott came rushing with his fingers hovering above the trigger of his visor, yet he noticed Charles’s raised hand as a command to stop. “Professor, why was he here?!”

“…Call the Team, Scott,” Xavier took a minute to collect his words “The Brotherhood is on the move.” His eyes wandered to the decorative chess board and saw the stalemate of the pieces on it.

assets

The Goddess and Her King Consort

“What the fuck is that thing?!” Teresa roared as her leg muscles were burning, sweat soaking, head frantically turning left and right to scan for the pursuing demon in a giant man’s guise filled with bloodlust and perverted sadism.

“The hell…would I know…” Bobbi’s panting showcased the limitation of her body caused by a large wound on her stomach from the lightning-fast claw attack courtesy of Victor Creed. The new stim shot developed by Richard Parker recently helps numb the pain and keep her going, but the loss of blood is slow but gradually catching up as the chase goes on.

“He’s too fast to be a human!” following her instinct, Teresa shot a valley of ICER rounds into the rustling bushes surrounding them, still having no clue about their destination.

There’s only a singular drive that matters at the moment.

Survive.

They run, and run, but the chance of survival receding significantly with the more Bobbi Morse keeps pushing her limits.

“Run, little rabbits! Make it more fun for me!” the giant man cackled from the woods, like a wraith of vengeance hunting them down. Sounds of trees being pounced upon and launched from chasing their tails like a shadow, deliberately stretching out the inevitable doom for entertainment.

She’s not an expert marksman or godly-accurate like Hawkeye or anything, but she could’ve sworn on her dead mother’s grave that she landed at least five shots of ICER rounds into the inhuman hunter after he almost disemboweled the blonde agent. According to the specs, that much dendrotoxin in someone’s system should introduce a cardiac arrest or even semi-permanent nerve damage already; yet the motherfucker’s still maniacally hunting them down like cattle effortlessly.

Maybe, just maybe, she can sacrifice Morse and get away from here. A slim chance of success, but it’s better than whatever the sadist giant had in mind.

That’s how she lived her life since…

Teresa suddenly stopped in her tracks and ducked down out of instinct, rolled out of the way, and quickly lined the barrel of her ICER at the blur of Victor Creed, aiming at the center of mass. Three consecutive shots rang out, colliding into the savage man’s chest and neck, resulting in his falling limp and careening into a nearby fell tree, the sound of the collision was identical to a speeding truck crashing into a pole. The light of hope is fleeting, as the mass of a furred man slowly rises from the exploded tree with splints of wood piercing into his flesh, yet the animalistic man doesn’t seem too bothered by it at all.

Under the moonlight, Teresa witnessed the most baffling sight she’d ever come across.

Victor Creed casually dislodged all of the splints from his body, even the big one that pierced through his diaphragm had been pulled out like plucking a chicken’s feather, the exposed skin shows the wounds he sustained a mere moment earlier mending themselves like reverse footage, accelerated beyond human comprehension.

His metallic and shiny grin of death illuminated by the cold and uncaring gleam of the moon sowed despair into her heart. Shaken with fear and desperation, Teresa lined the gun again at the slowly approaching monster in front of her and fired another set of shots into his broad chest.

Her fingers kept pulling, her arms locked into a straight line, and her eyes glued to the occasional struggle of her killer.

Bang!

Bang! Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Click…

Click…

“Damn…that’s annoying,” Victor Creed growled with a sadistic smile, tensing up his arms and extending his Adamantium claws from his fingers “Ya should’ve kept running, little rabbit,” his clawed hand raised above his head, prepped for a deathly swipe, but he went rigid and foaming at his mouth a moment later as a sling of electrode penetrated his side, sending a lethal dose of electric shock through his body.

Teresa’s eyes traced the line back to its origin and met with the pale face of Bobbi Morse leaning against a tree trunk with one of her escrima in hand, her pressing finger violently shaking from exhaustion.

“Get out of there!” the command came in like a dying plea, but it was enough to jumpstart her paralyzed brain. Rolling to the side and running again, Teresa approached her C.O. with confusion and gratitude. “The battery won’t hold much longer…we need to…” she whimpered, almost collapsing on the tree trunk if not for Teresa’s support.

Teresa, with quick thinking, took Bobbi’s gun into her hand and rained another magazine down on Victor Creed, purposefully grouping the shots at his head. “How many spares do you have?” the Chameleon gritted through the fear and reloaded one from her belt into the gun.

“A couple…” Bobbi groaned and leaned heavily on Teresa, her hand still clutching the escrima like a lifeline. “Fury said nothing…about this kind of…monster.” Morse coughs a froth of blood, her internal organs starting to break down.

The effect starts to lessen when the battery is running out of juice, evidently shown in how Victor Creed gets hold of the electrode cable with his massive hand and pulls; the hook tip dislodged forcefully from his side accompanied by a squirt of blood.

“Woah! That’s the stuff! Haven’t been shocked that good since Harbin, makes me kinda missing that fucker Shiro,” Sabretooth yapped on while evading another electrode with ease since he wasn’t caught off guard this time. “Ya got some bite, I’ll give y’all that.” He walked up to them, claws sprung, and metallic fang lined his grinning face. the halo of death formed around his head from the fading moonlight was to be the last sight they would see in this final moment. “But, sadly, bunnies; everything ends.”

G H O S T

Uncle Spider and his little wolverine

X-Men

"🅹🆄🆂🆃 🆅🅸🅶🅸🅻🅰🅽🆃🅸🅽🅶 …🅸🅻🅻🅴🅶🅰🅻🅻🆈"

[WIP] 70%

“…What was that for?” Peter whispered to her, nuzzling his nose against Kate’s.

“Making up for lost times,” Kate replied in kind, pulling him back in again for another kiss, deeper and softer than the one before, yet still filled to the brim with unspoken emotions “…I still love you, Pete.” She said with a teary smile “I love you, and I don’t know if you will accept it or not, but I still love you.” she poured her heart out in front of him and laid it bare on the metaphysical plate as her eyes search for that lingering flame her hopeful mind desperately desired to see. “Namor’s lie almost made me choke on regrets; I don’t wanna feel like that again.” She kept going, her hands caressing his face softly and playing with the stubbles “I love you, Peter Benjamin Parker.” His full name rolled off her tongue like a full-moon honey, eliciting a dorky smile on that face she adores so much “I love you.”

Getting the groove.

At a family meeting, somewhere in the future...

MY fanfic : at AO3