“What The Fuck Is That Thing?!” Teresa Roared As Her Leg Muscles Were Burning, Sweat Soaking, Head

Gambit in my stories lost one of his eyes to his mother because it resembled a gemstone which she sold it and took the money before leaving him to die in the Bayou

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

MY fanfic : at AO3

“So, you guys definitely came from an alternate reality,” Peter addressed with a welcoming smile as he seated on a couch opposite the Web Warriors (they insisted) while presenting Susan’s best tea blends and some freshly baked cookies courtesy of Mister Grimm; that giant was a miracle worker when it comes to cooking. “I met some of the other Peters before, years ago. It's usually not a good sign when you meet with your alternate variants, kinda like running into a doppelganger or something; supposed to bring bad luck.” He attempted to lighten the atmosphere a little. “Relax, please; everyone here knows I’m Spider-Man, and the Future Foundation is closed for the holidays, we won’t be interrupted, I promise.” Just then, the elevator dings and reveals the rest of the occupants to the gathered Spider-Persons. “Ah, excuse me a little bit,” he got up in a jump and jogged towards the blondes walking out of the shaft accompanied by a man with salt-and-pepper hair, a stone-skinned giant, and a little toddler with strawberry-brown hair hooking her little hand to the pregnant blonde’s. “Couldn’t even wait, huh?” Peter teased the petite blonde who was glued to the pregnant woman’s side to support her in walking. “Hey, Valeria.” He greeted the toddler who beamed back at him with her missing tooth grin.

“Aw! That’s little Val!” Cindy commented as Peter; her Peter, produced a smile at seeing the alternate version of his surrogate niece.

“Dada!” the girl announced with a giddy voice, and it made the 616-Peter choke on his tea, followed along by the Ultimate and Spider-UK while Silk covered her mouth with a gasp.

Ghost-Spider widened her lenses at the call, but mostly at the petite blonde who gave her a sense of curiosity; an action that was mimicked intensely by the woman.

“But Reed and… What…How did you even have the time to…” Peter-616 whined with confusion and disbelief on his face as he gestured toward Hawkeye, Black Cat, and apparently, a pregnant Susan Storm whom his counterpart managed to have relationships with at the same time without it turning into a shit fest “Wasn’t you a Spider-Man in this reality?!”

“Oh, he is,” The sunflower-blonde answered with a scoff “Annoyingly so, but you know, he’s not the only superhero around.” She shrugged her shoulders and helped Susan purchase a seat on the single recliner nearby. She returned her attention to the red-and-blue variant of her fiancé “Ever heard of scheduling or team management?”

Peter-616 was about to protest but then when he analyzed her words carefully, he shut his mouth and settled into the couch with a slouch with Cindy firmly rubbing his upper back sympathetically.

Gwen-65 smirked under her mask, finding the fiery petite blonde amusing; especially the way that the woman expertly shut Spider-Man up effectively with a single sentence.

Peter Parker | All-Black The Necrosword

A Day Off

“How’s the dinner?” Logan asked her as they walked alongside one another on the edge of the lake, cones of ice cream in their hands. Storm got her white tank top on, showing her toned stomach, and low-waistline denim jeans, braving the summer sun casually while letting her silver hair flow freely with the caressing wind. She’s a sight to behold, everybody agrees on this, and many looked up to her as a goddess justifiably.

‘You know she fancies you, right?’

‘Yeah, sure, Furball.’ He mused with a chuckle.

“It’s my mother’s idea, actually,” Ororo relayed “She's an old friend with Queen Regent Ramonda, and both agree there’s no one else the Golden Tribe should be welcome as his consort.”

“So, it’s political?”

“Well, for the most part,” Ororo replied as they kept to the shades, enjoying the sounds of children and humans around them “T’Challa was not a bad man or anything, I've known him since we were children, but we are like siblings more than anything, and his eyes are set on someone else already,”

‘So does mine,’ Ororo muttered internally as she glanced sideways towards the long-living mutant, so manly and intimidating in visage that very few get to know the soft sides of his. He was a caring person despite his hard image of a brute; most of the girls in the Institute looked at him like their uncle and she saw many instances in which Logan also acted like their overprotective father without knowing.

[ Secret Invasion Part 2: Tangled Webs | AO3 ]

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.

Foggy's death was not exactly a cheap shot; it's to show that, in New York City, even with numbers of vigilantes around, sudden and unprecedented deaths can still happened.

Superheroes can't be everywhere despite how amazing they are, there will be the people they failed to save.

What makes them heroes was that, despite the downs they will find the courage to get back up and keep on hoping to see a better day.

“You don’t have to keep an eye on me, you know? I’m not a toddler.” “Yeah, but you can be a naughty kitten sometimes.” Peter retorted, hanging upside down from the ceiling of the City Hall, watching her casually return the map to its drawer “For example, when I asked you to bring a map with you, I didn’t mean the antique one inside the City Hall.” “The tourists’ one will do the job, sure,” Felicia shrugged her shoulders and leaped into his waiting arms, climbing around his body and clinging to his back by his sticky body and her arms around his neck “But where’s the drama in doing that?” a challenging smile graced her face and her fingers lightly scratching the underside of his chin while Peter retraced his web line upward. “Does everything have to be dramatic with you?” “Someone begged me to stop stealing,” Felicia emphasized the word with her finger poking his sternum from behind “I have to find some way to entertain myself, lest I get bored.” They stay quiet for a while as security patrols by, then retrace the path they took to get inside. “Entertain yourself? What about the club? I’m sure many would love to help you with that.” That comment earned him a smack to the side of his head “Ow…” “Serves you right.” Felicia poked his cheek and pushed it hard, which was barely registered by the superhuman “I’m not talking about sex,” the thought of engaging in that with anyone still put a bad taste in her mouth “I’m fine by myself in that department, trust me. I’m talking about the thrill of doing things against the clock, the possibility of getting caught, and the satisfaction of pulling it off without a trace.” “Sounds kinky,” he commented playfully, and this time evaded her hand with Spider-Sense. “Maybe doing something else would help? Have you ever tried pottery?” he led them out of the building and started swinging towards the agreed location with the others, scouting for the fake Punisher. “Me? Sitting still molding clay? What do you think?” she made for a detachment and Peter let go of his sticky power, letting Black Cat acrobats herself forward using her hook swing, rolling in the air and perfectly caught by Spider-Man to be thrown ahead, like a dance between them. She clings to his back again after a couple of sets as he runs on walls horizontally forward, gaining speed, and then leaping off the building into a swing. “I think it’s worth a try, at least.” He continued mid-swing, gaining momentum through the parabola arch “Maybe you just need to relax a little bit; without the alcohol, and the smoking.” “What are you, my boyfriend?” a smirk tugged involuntarily at the corner of her lips. “Is that a smile I hear?” Peter prodded playfully at her and felt her arms tighten around his neck “Alright, alright!”

Peter, Logan, and Scott should be in a "Redheads Are the Trouble" club together