18. male. INTJ.
Hannibal, Les Mis, X-Men.
a charming young man who is,
perhaps, capable of being terrible.
1/80
→
‘well i can’t speak for the others, but it wouldn’t have been much of a life without you…’
(via -ml)
(Source: palalife, via ghostjacob)
I hate James and his adorable little face.
You know XMFC is really set in the 60s when Charles seriously flirts by saying ‘groovy’.
(via -ml)
Red lights flash around him, klaxons ring down metal corridors. Sweat drips from every pore, but that’s not important right now. The sharp tang of blood is in his mouth, and he swallows to fight down nausea. This ship is filled with demons, and Charles needs to see them burn. If he can just get his axe—if he can just reach it with the tips of his fingers, then Charles can end this nightmare. Shaw—the androids—the experiments—
His legs. Shaw took—Shaw took his legs. His real legs are rotting—and the stubs of the robotic legs screech on the floor as he crawls, drawing sparks.
If he can get the axe, though, he can do anything.. Anything to fight his way out of this constant nightmare. He still doesn’t know where Erik is. Maybe he’s dead too. At the very least, he’s only a head. Ripped off to torture Charles—all of this to torture Charles. All because he has something Shaw will never, can never have. No matter how hard he tries to replicate it. No matter how many filthy test tubes he fills with Charles’ DNA—
And Charles will fight to his last breath, no matter how broken, battered, and bruised he gets, against the one man who ruined his life.
And maybe then, he’ll put this axe through his head, too.
There’s someone else out there.
(Source: because-xaviers, via synekdokee)
This was an illustration to accompany a fic I wrote for my XMFC Airmail recipient. The premise was very simple: on a cold day in the winter that follows Cuba, Charles bumps into Alex at Darwin’s makeshift grave in the Xavier garden. They have a good conversation where Alex insinuates that he had (perhaps one-sided) feelings for his lost friend, and suggests that Charles can understand that “more than anyone”. Charles reminisces about his time with Erik (where nothing did happen between them after all) and Alex begins the very long road of making peace with Darwin’s death.
It was horribly, horribly written which is why I’m giving you the summary instead of the actual fic, but I did like how this turned out. Paint Tool Sai.
Second-hand love
———
The original had the actual candles in the foreground, but that ended up looking pretty tacky. The Greyscale+Colour layers method still makes little sense to me, but at least this attempt looks a bit better.
(via pangeasplits)
