ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃𝓜𝓪𝔃𝓾

.✦ ݁˖𝑬𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔~ ⋆˚࿔ 𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒂 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒕⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

[mazuwii]

⋆˚꩜｡mazuwii ⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

Request Rules

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ 𝑴𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒘𝒊𝒊, 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒀𝒂𝒛𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒌 .✦ ݁˖

𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 ⤷’RDR2ˎˊ˗ ᥫ᭡

𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒅𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒆 3, 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒆 ‎ꫂ᭪݁

𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒏 ᯓ★

‧˚꒰🐾୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ 𝑩𝒂𝒕𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚⋆˚꩜｡

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒆જ⁀➴

࣪ ִֶָ☾. 𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝑨𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏, 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑹𝑫𝑹2, 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒂𝒑 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔°˖➴

༄.°𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑿𝒎𝒆𝒏, 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉, 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 ₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒔°❀.ೃ࿔*

❀˖°𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒆 ৻ꪆ

𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒔 15. 𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 ´ཀ`

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𝑰 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒂𝒕𝒄𝒉, 𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 𝑹𝑫𝑹2 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒐𝒗𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆ᯓ★ˎˊ˗

𝑰 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒇𝒇 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒕. 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒆

[mazuwii]

Magneto X reader

Premise: Krakoan era, you get your period (it’s a PCOS period, agonising, tiring- you get it)

Authors note: not insanely accurate this is mainly self indulgent.

Despite the multiple invitations and reminders of the gala, you regretted to inform everyone that you might not show up and even when asked why you could only shyly look away and whisper a small, "period."

Emma's perfect features twitched in confusion, asking how on earth you were confident about your uterus's timing and why it even mattered.

Anna Marie, however, shot you a knowing look. She'd been there when you were both young at Westchester, the entire mansion would hear your cries and yelps until you grew wise enough to mute the agony out with pills as per her recommendation.

"Only issue is," you continue to explain to Emma, "I've taken so much pain relief in the past that I have to take a shit ton now. Which only redirects the agony to my livers."

She swirls around her wine in her gloved hand and raises a suspecting brow, "Had I been you, I would've fought Beast for a cure."

Anna sits up on her seat properly, "best we could do was stay outta her damn way," she snorted in memory, "poor Remy was the only one who didn't understand-" you both laugh as if the exact same memory replayed in your head.

The Cajun stood in your doorway, dropping peace offerings whilst ducking hard launched pillows you'd used your gravity mutation to attack him with, screeching at him to go bother someone else.

"Careful cherè! Was only checkin' on ya- AGH!"

The memories rushing back only makes you sigh, hoping sincerely that your little prediction was incorrect and that the little cramps and cravings were just a coincidence and that tomorrow- upon the gala's day, you'd wear the gown you saved and make it to the event.

You cut the little hangout short after a few more stomach pangs.

The green pathway was clear and direct, towards the pod you share with your husband, Erik. Along the way, you grow weary and slow enough not to notice the tall figure following from behind.

Instead, you curled on the little stone steps, hugging your stomach.

Leafs and plants swaying amongst the silence soothe you into small chills through the dull pain.

Until...

"Ah, there you are"-

You shriek at the deep baritone voice, flinching towards the direction to find a mildly amused Erik.

"You arse-" you hiss before quickly shutting up and forcibly softening yourself, sitting back on the steps. "Sorry, sweetheart... didn't see you."

The same shit eating grin lit his face. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd notice me," he kneeled in front of you, his white strands mussed from a long stressful day.

The steel blue eyes you woke up to every morning travel across your features, down your body as if he was trying to make sense of your weary state.

Then, he peels his glove off.

"I would be dutiful in reminding you the Gala's tomorrow," the back of his ungloved hand presses to your forehead, "however it doesn't seem as though you are fit to attend," he hums and pulls back. No heat.

"It's my period, Erik." You reassure and eventually stand to enter the warm home. "I wouldn't be fit to get out of bed, let alone a whole Gala..."

His chuckle vibrates through the vacant entry of the home, "Oh, I am well aware of your mighty periods and the doom they cast upon your day."

"Not enough to stop you from scaring me apparently." you limp to the couch, curling up to warm your tummy.

"Come now, my dear, it was only done in jest." He beelines to the kitchen and rummages around until a few minutes later. He emerges with a mug smelling of multiple seeped plants. The mixture of herbs that usually soothes mild cramping.

You carefully take it from his steady hands and take a few sips. "Forgiven," you sigh and lean back as if your shoulders weighed you down.

"Wonderful,"

You melt at the genuine fond look he shares. "I'm not sure if my period is coming anyway, could be a scare." You whisper as he sits beside you, an arm behind your shoulder.

He hums in response, sharing his bodily warmth with you.

You add hoarsely, "I'm excited to see you there too... I mean I saw your outfit and I can't wait to see how Charles reacts when you out do him again."

Erik laughs heartily at that, slender fingers burying into your hair to carefully bump your forehead with his. "He will be rendered speechless- as he is every single time."

Your eyes softly flutter as fatigue grasps you, his warmth paired with the tea reduces you to a yawning mess.

Erik helps you into bed and you curl up with a few sleepy prayers about your period delaying for the gala's sake.

By the time the cool summer air drifted in through the windows and the Krakoan sun bathed the bedroom, you find yourself in a cocoon with a heating pad on your lower belly. However, it didn't seem to do much.

Despite the fresh breeze and the calming serenity of the morning your stomach tied in knots, releasing in a dull clench before repeating the same agony.

Erik opened the door at the sound of your whimpers, in the midst of getting dressed- no doubt. His white brows furrow before he hurries over and tries to do something to the iron in your blood, which makes you yelp and flinch onto your side. "E-Erik...! M-Meds..." you pant breathlessly.

Without a nod, the old man leaves your side and returns before another dull wave washes over you.

You drink the two pills he often lectures you against having, his hand cradling your head as you chug the water.

To settle in your system, it would take twenty more minutes. You refuse to cry like you did back in Westchester. No, not at such an age. You're a woman now.

You grit your teeth as Erik adjusts the heating pad and rubs your stomach in slow circles.

"G-Gala... go..." you sigh as relief barely washes over you, "I'll be fine"-

"Nonsense," he dresses your cold feet in fuzzy socks to lock warmth in. "Krakoa will survive without me for one evening," Erik half jokes.

"It isn't nonsense..." you whisper between huffs, "Erik, you deserve to be celebrated... you played a huge part in keeping mutants safe..." You bit your lip, trying not to grow too emotional in front of him. "Don't stay because you pity me,"

At the sight of your tears, he assesses again, scanning where your most coiled and stiff movements were to understand where you're hurting.

And of course, Erik Lehnsherr ignored your pleas.

Instead, your poor husband spent the better half of the morning and afternoon around you.

"Have you eaten?"

"Not yet," you rasp, half spent from muffling your sounds of anguish the entire hour.

Erik furrows his brows and leaves to go fix the issue. Somehow problem solving every discomfort the best he logically can.

By then, the afternoon slipped by in a haze of blankets, heating pads and junk food.

It destroyed your carefully balanced meal plan but your husband only protested once- mainly reluctant.

"You'll feel terrible if you eat all this," he sighs before sitting down.

"I already feel terrible," you switch on a random film to distract yourself, curling against his side. Jane Eyre. You think nothing of it.

Between scenes and a few weak nibbles on a bar, you end up with your back half to his chest, his arm curled around you to secure your position.

In the distance, the sounds of laughter and music pangs, muffling in the Krakoan air. The gala being hearable wasn't helping your case- not as the film takes an emotional turn.

Jane had discovered Mr Rochesters mad wife in a locked room shortly after their interrupted wedding, disturbed and confused. Mr Rochester attempted damage control by pleading with her, crying into her dress and explaining why he lied, yet it wasn't getting through to her.

So she ran away, down the window, through the grassy desert.

Both your guilt and the scene of Mr Rochester calling desperately for Jane on his horse builds up into an ugly ball of emotion.

Your eyes immediately began to sting, a broken whisper flying from your lips, "oh God."

Besides your ear came a very familiar sigh, one earned from years of learning how emotional you could become during certain films.

You sniff, thickly swallowing. "Oh Erik... this is awful." You wipe your tears, "he loves her,"

"I gathered as much,"

Your lip trembles as the rain soaks through her hopeless sobs, thinking she found someone who truly loved her just for it to be a lie.

Behind you, Erik slightly shifts. Not because he was uncomfortable but because he knows whats to come.

A broken sound leaves you, turning to peer over at the old man, "are you judging me?"

His lips curl in a soft smirk, “I wouldn’t dare,” Erik beckons you closer, hand slipping over your stomach to check the heating pad. “It may be mildly amusing when you shed tears over fiction, though I suppose that only means you wear your heart on your sleeve,”

“Heck does that mean?”

You snort and curl up into him properly, legs tucked under the little blanket and cheek nuzzled into his chest.

“It means,” he corrects the fabric around you to trap heat, “You are deeply sincere,” he taps your nose, “Maybe even an open book,” another tap.

“Erik,” you sigh and grab his hand before he does it again.

“Sleep, you look exhausted.” His cheek rests on your head, hiding his dreary expression as the two protagonists on screen yearn for each other.

Your arm tucks against his middle, losing the battle against fatigue. Another issue he’ll have to hunt a solution for.

When you’re finally out, he presses his lips into your hairline, smoothing hair back from your face.

[mazuwii]

You guys ever wanna write fanfiction for your new blorbo but you’re at the phase where you’re too shy?

[morgangalaxy43]

I don’t like it when Magneto hates or wants to kill all humans because it ignores his human family that he loved

[mazuwii]

Whilst I wholeheartedly agree, the interesting bits of Magneto’s character is that he’s a hypocrite

[mazuwii]

Can I request characters from every gender?

Yeah, I have nothing against it tbh

[vo1d-bunny]

“You dare to touch my daughter!?” - Yandere Dad!Magneto & Reader (X-Men ‘97)

Guess who’s on an X-Men kick y’all - your friendly neighborhood author! I’ve gotten back into the podcast Cerebro after a year long break and goddamn, I had forgotten how good that podcast is.

CW: Controlling Behavior, Bigotry, Hate Crimes, Implied Sexual Assualt, General Yandere Things

You’re well aware that you weren’t supposed to be out in the city. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to be in the country. Your father had made it clear that he would vastly prefer if you stayed behind in Genosha, safe among your own kind. You didn’t want to stay, though. The X-Men were new and exciting, and the journey was a chance to experience a life you’d only seen in movies. So you begged and begged until your father agreed, with one condition:

You would not go out without him.

You agreed, willing to do just about anything to accompany him, but you had failed to consider the full ramifications of what you agreed to. Mainly, you failed to consider how goddamn boring this stupid school would be. Your father was too busy saving humans to ever go anywhere with you, so you were just stuck rotting away.

So, yeah, you broke the rules. You snuck out. What was the worst that could happen?

Stupid question, you know.

“Look what we have here, boys, a lost little mutie.”

Your eyes dart around, frantically looking for an escape route as several men surround you. You hold your hands up in surrender, “I’m not looking for any trouble.”

“Well, we are, sweetheart. Scum like you shouldn’t be out in the streets.” One of the men, the apparent leader, leans closer to you. His breath is horrid and his wandering eyes make your skin crawl.

Not for the first time, you wish you had inherited your father’s control over magnetism. Your mutation, although powerful, had little offensive capabilities. You couldn’t exactly heal someone to death after all, that would be counterproductive.

The leader draws even closer, reaching one of his hands out to touch you, “you know…you’re pretty for freak. Maybe we could work something out.”

You close your eyes, prepared to endure whatever horrible things this man is going to do to you. The benefit - or, more accurately, curse, - of your mutation is the assurance that you will not die by this man’s hand. Even if you wanted to.

Before he can actually make contact, however, a piece of metal sends him flying into a wall. You open your eyes and see your father descending from the heavens like an angry god, “you dare to touch my daughter!?”

The two men closest to you are attacked next, large pieces of rebar pinning them to the ground like bugs. “You are swine! Groveling, pathetic creatures that want to kill everything that is different, even if it cannot harm you.”

The others scatter, but they don’t get far. Your father strikes them down, one after another, with a precision and accuracy that is almost frightening. It is a testament to his commitment to Charles’ dream that none of them die. Although, you’d be surprised if any of them ever walked again.

Your father lands next to you, instantly pulling you into his arms to check for injuries, “did the hurt you?”

Whatever adrenaline or survival instinct was keeping you together earlier fades and you collapse into your father, sobbing, “N-no. I-I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have gone out.”

“No, you shouldn’t have. You made a promise, my dear. One which you have broken.”

“I’m sorry, please don’t be mad. I won’t ever do it again.”

“I am not angry, my dear. This is my fault.”

You look up at your father in confusion, “what?”

“I should have known you were not prepared to come here. I let my desire to be close to you cloud my judgement, but that ends today,” your father rises back into the sky, carrying you like you weigh nothing.

“I am taking you back to Genosha, where you will remain until I return. I will not risk the safety of my family again, my child. I have already lost too much.”

[mazuwii]

Send me magneto fanfictions I’m actually dying

[ciricearts]

done both versions!!<3

[mazuwii]

My ultimate twilight sparkle head canon is that she has curly hair but she straightened it so often she decided to perm it that way

[mazuwii]

My faves and the animals they remind me of

(I’m bored and don’t wanna study, feel free to tell me what you’d put them as)

Magneto - white Maine coon cat, prestigious, very- don’t touch me, human- vibes

Reiner - Tiger, not sure of this specific species but it’s pale to the average one. Brave and beautiful in appearance, strong features that match his

Arthur- I know it’s stag, literally- look at his features. But he really does remind me of a bear, and Arthur’s name originally means strong bear so.

[mazuwii]

Is any other writer suddenly bombarded with spam by people offering to draw your writing work into a comic?

[mazuwii]

Hot take about RDR3

There shouldn’t be an rdr3. If rockstar wants to put effort in somewhere they should make a secret mission only 1% of players can find where Arthur escapes with Mary in rdr2 for an alternate ending.

[mazuwii]

Reiner X reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: not really anything

Authors note: so miserable and this is all I can comfort myself with so enjoy. Feel free to send requests

"Sweetheart stop!"

Reiner exasperated against your giggles, his arms tight around you in a cradled hold. A therapy technique that he insisted you both needed- him rocking you back and forth and chanting "I love you" like some sort of wizard.

However your laughter kept interrupting the moment.

"Can't help it, your beard keeps tickling me!" You grunted and squirmed around his tight hold, failing to escape.

"The therapist said this would help, now stay still and let me love you"-

"Mnnn!-" you broke out in laughter as he attacked your cheek with kisses, his whiskers tickling you again. “Rei!”

"You feel loved yet?" He peppered your face as you calmed down from your giggles.

Suddenly, warm calloused palms gripped you firmly yet softly, easily handling your body around like a ragdoll until he had you on your back between the cushions and blankets, buried between fuzz.

Used to his behaviour, you shake your head slowly. "Feels like I'm being mauled by a teddy bear."

A smirk stretched across his smug perfect face and he leaned down to press his forehead on yours, keeping some form of physical contact. "That sounds like love to me."

[mazuwii]

“If there was an MLP collab, Twilight should be Symettra!”

“No she should be Illari!”

(Wrong buzzer sound) 🚫

it’s Ana

[powerhayakawaa]

how all of the fanfics are written like nowadays on tumblr since it's all smut

[mazuwii]

Reiner X F!Reader

Category- fluff, somewhat angst

Warnings- ED! Specifically Bulimia, reader relapses.

Word count- 1.5k

The house was usually warm with your laughter or sounds of your restless movement.

Earlier that afternoon, you reassured Reiner you'd be fine if he went to go drop off Gabi and her friends at their houses. You even joked about him being everyone's designated cab driver.

You both had a small laugh about how the weather was barely warm around this time and yet, everyone was taking their clothes off and eating ice cream.

Although your smile was broad, it didn't convince him.

Throughout his years as a soldier and warrior, Reiner learnt pattern recognition to the point of witnessing it through the simplest of things.

The strategies he'd dismantled in war, the physical fights he'd won turned into the rhythmic kneading of dough, the duvet spreading softly across the bed he'd make, the fall and rise of your chest.

It's not a surprise he recognised your relapse before you did.

It started off slow. You told him you were busy with studying, locked yourself up into your office room and when he managed to coax you out every now and then, your gaze constantly avoided his.

Now, with your extra sized clothes and tense shoulders, he was sure, even if he found those clothes cute and cosy on you.

The same way you loved that green sweater on him, exclaiming about how fuzzy and squishy he was to cuddle when he wore it. Like fabric could make such a difference.

Reiner struggled with confrontation. He didn't want to scare you off, especially not when you were vulnerable.

It was difficult enough to help you release your feelings and struggles with eating.

Reiner had his own. Despite his better judgement, he opened up to you about it, aiding you in your illusions of isolation.

The sun dipped by the time Falco's stop was near, the blond boy over-explaining the brand new trampoline park Gabi and Zofia had dragged him along to.

Reiner nodded along to his words, and swerved gently into the side, slowing into a halt. "Please say hi to Y/n for me, sir." Falco said as he opened the door to exit.

"Sure, Falco." Reiner chuckled, "I'll tell my wife her secret admirer said hi."

Falco blushed but brushed Reiner's teasing off and hurried off inside his home.

The sky had become shades of blue and lavender fading through the canvas of stars. Who knew dropping off three kids could take this long.

The roads of your town got busy around that time too, lengthening Reiner's return.

Around the corner, Reiner could make out the stone gates of your home and the pretty garden leading to the porch. The one you clumsily insisted on helping out on.

Gardening was a therapy tool for him, it didn't erase his trauma sure, but it helped lessen the impact of thoughts.

The car door flung open and the tall blond stretched his sore back out, careful not to pop a cramp in his tight muscles.

The neighbourhood settled with the late warm evening, a soothing quiet accompanied him as he padded over to the door and pushed it open, expecting to hear your gaming sounds, clumsy movements in the kitchen, a film that played on a volume far too loud.

Except, it was eerily quiet.

His Adam's apple bobbed, nervously stepping inside and pausing by the kitchen door, half open.

A snack wrapping paper caught his eye and he followed inside, finding you sprawled on the kitchen floor, back against the cupboard with stains across your mouth.

"Don't..." you whispered, eyes vacant and unfocused, "...Don’t look at me, please."

The papers were scattered everywhere, an unfinished loaf discarded on the floor by your thigh. Your brows knotted pitifully for a second.

"...Y/n"-

"Go." You whispered shakily, face dropping into your hands as if he caught you defecating yourself.

"Sweetheart, please." He kneeled beside you, hoping to emotionally anchor you.

The sounds of your shaky throat wrenched at his heart like a spear. You don't cry often but when you do, it triggered something in him.

Soft whimpers muffled against tears and your messy hands, shakily cupped the noise away.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, unable to look at the man your shame convinced you was too good to be looked at by a hideous creature like you.

"Don't be sorry," he nudged closer, allowing you a few seconds to flinch away. "I'm not mad, no one's mad, love."

His chest pressed into your ear, muffling the agonising shame that taunted you into submission. Soft weeps faded into hiccups.

When you stayed quiet, he let himself gather you up into his arms. "Shhhh... shhhh," his warm palm splayed against your back as he swayed your bodies.

Although you didn't deserve it, you leaned in, eyelashes fluttering in exhaustion. "Been working yourself to death, hm?" He tenderly said.

You shook your head, "not enough... clearly."

Your attention wandered across the floor where the wrappers and discarded food was, feeling another flush of embarrassment and shame take over.

Reiner noticed and made sure to keep your eyes away from the manifested mess of your mind.

"Let's go get you cleaned up, yeah, love?"

Despite your agonised stomach, you nodded and stood to your feet with his help, wincing with every movement.

His palm clamped over your bicep until you made it to the top step, "what triggered it?" Reiner asked and helped you limp to the bathroom.

"I-I don't even know?" You began to wash your hands and face clean of the sticky mess.

"I guess the stress of studying caught up to me and I... felt worthless when nothing went right." Your hands cupped a handful of water, trying to focus on the ripples instead of the rising food in your throat.

However, your husband began lecturing you. "That's why I told you not lock yourself away, you know I would've made sure- Y/n!"

You ran to the toilet bowl and shoved the seat up, a gush of the random trash you binged on came hurdling out of your throat.

The clumps of food you hadn’t chewed properly scraped at the lining of your oesophagus.

He rubbed your back and held your hair, wincing at the coughs and belches.

"Go"- you desperately croaked, "don't look at me!" Another round of vomit followed. “D-Don’t- mmngh”-

"I've seen worse Y/n, stop hiding yourself!" He cupped water from the sink and drenched it over your face to snap you out of the nausea.

"Mmph- Rei!" You gasped and finally calmed the pulsing blood in your vessels.

He leaned over and flushed the throw up, glancing worriedly down at you. Not angry, disgusted or disappointed. Just concerned.

His hazel's had the power to shoot a laser into you whenever you hid something from him and now, the teddy bear you grew to love was scanning you like a machine.

"Rei, I wanna shower... can you… uhm.” You hinted at the door shyly.

He paused, "I can stay and make sure nothing"-

"Baby I threw up after a binge, it's not like I tried to throw myself out of the window." You rasped, the acid in your throat settling.

Reiner was unconvinced, too scared to leave you be yet too soft to go against your plea. You didn’t want him to see your body, not right now at least.

"I'm right outside, I'll listen closely incase anything happens, okay?" He stepped forward and kissed your forehead firmly.

The warmth of his lips soothed your frayed nerves, "Kay..."

When you got inside for a wash, you didn't notice Reiner leaving a pile of clean clothes for you to wear on the sink's table, the blond carefully tiptoeing out of the bathroom as to not scare you.

Reiner always knew you had your own issues. It was just how adamant you were to hide them from him in fear he'd grow disgusted of you.

The clothes were oversized like you preferred around these troubling times, allowing you to breathe normally.

You dried off and padded out to the bedroom where Reiner was holding a mug and patting the space next to him.

The bed dipped as you hesitantly crawled on besides him, the mug suddenly pressed into your cold hands.

"Drink, it should help with the nausea."

The first sip was warm enough to embrace your belly, softening your tensed body enough to lean back into the pillows he propped up.

The wash helped you feel brand new, a clean slate from the binge you promised yourself you’d stop ages ago. The bergamot and citrus soap removed the sickening scent of vomit and food.

The television was playing a ridiculous sitcom he was in love with. It wasn’t amazing but you and Rei laughed at it often.

Your emptied stomach and warm mug settled you into a calm, serene state.

Reiner noticed your dipping head and fondly grinned, relieved to see the anxiety slowly fade away.

"Sweetheart, come." He beckoned you with open arms.

You placed the half drunken tea on the nightstand and let him scoop you to his chest, his heart thudding in your ear.

"Sorry." You whispered into his sweater. "I'll do better."

"Hey, no... no apologies, wasn't your fault, you hear?” He rubbed your back and firm circles.

Your arms limply splayed, sleep slowly claimed you as he lectured you on hiding away again.

You didn't feel the shame anymore, just a settled relief that you'd be okay as long as you had him.

[schoenesfraulein]

Chapters: 25/25 Fandom: Marvel Rivals (Video Game), X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence and Sexual Content Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Reader, Magneto/reader, Max Eisenhardt/Reader Characters: Magneto, Erik Lehnsherr, Max Eisenhardt Additional Tags: Action & Romance, Eventual Romance, Romance, Retirement, Krakoa Era (X-Men), The Quiet Council of Krakoa (Marvel), Epic, Explicit Consent Summary: [COMPLETED, Magneto x Female!Reader, 2nd person POV] The Timestream Entanglement forces you out of your early retirement as a former Immortal Weapon for a deeply personal cause: protecting your nephew, the new Iron Fist. As you join Galacta’s heroes, a crucial alliance is on the horizon with another nation fighting for its survival in the multiverse: Krakoa. For you and Magneto, a fellow weary veteran, this journey won’t just be saving your respective sanctuaries, but surviving the intense collision of two battle-hardened leaders.

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