Discover Top Posts Tagged with #comingxfage

$ - Charlie :3c

@coming-xf-age

// “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[txt: Unknown // 8:45am] Do you have any more files for me? I know it’s only been a week, I’m just... impatient. I want to know more

[txt: Unknown // 12:34pm] Ah. This was the wrong number. Sorry, to whoever this was. Tried to text my coworkers number from memory lol

#asks #ic #[ jon: lies through his fuckjing teeth ]#Anonymous #comingxfage #comingxfage: charlie

❝ just because i am blind does not mean i cannot fight. ❞ Jacob @ Silver (ง'̀-'́)ง give me a cutlass bitch

@coming-xf-age

“No, but it means you’re a lot more likely to die doing so. You’d be better off with a set of pistols. If you can hear where they are, you know where to shoot. I don’t imagine you’d be able to do the same with a sword... but, well...”

He sighed, extending the handle of a cutlass to Jacob.

“Prove me wrong.”

#asks #ic: silver #v: old long john (silver)#comingxfage #comingxfage: jacob #[ silver: i dont want to teach you how to fight but yknow what. fine. ]#Anonymous

@coming-xf-age liked for a starter from Xavier

Charles was determined to find and protect as many mutants as possible. He would never force them to go with him, an advocate for free will despite the potential of his mutation. That same ideal was present when he had come to collect Phillip that afternoon.

“Hello Phillip, my name is Charles Xavier.” He introduced with a curve of a smile and a carefully light and friendly voice. “I understand you are having some difficulty in managing your mutation?” He was unphased by the boy’s appearance, if anything the visibility of his mutation seemed subtle compared to most. “I’m here to help.”

#comingxfage #Xavier #Philip #Let me know if you want me to change anything ^^#or to pick another muse <3

@coming-xf-age

"Grandfather!" The ten-year-old runs to the door as soon as he sees the older man step through it, paying no attention to the accompanying colleagues as he makes an effort to jump into his arms. His mother had discouraged him from doing such an act, and yet he did so with the mischievous goal to make his grandfather groan and possibly comment on how he'd grown since the last time he saw him; Philip did so love being told that he was getting taller!

The yelled greeting served as a warning to brace himself and sure enough as Philip jumped, Francis caught him with a stiff noise as he did so, Philip had grown since he had last seen him, his expeditions could last years and it was hard to believe that the boy was already ten years old.

Still, he caught him in his arms and held him in close, exaggerating his complaints as he did and pretending to be knocked off balance. “Who is this tall man jumping on me?” Francis playfully demanded and moved there to look at his grandson with a mischief filled smile. “It surely can’t be Philip?!”

#comingxfage #pure stuff #just soft!

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ - Philip (coming-xf-age)

Send me a ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ for my muse to find yours in their living room eating a bowl of cereal.

“Jesus -” Sleipnir jumped to see the other sitting in the dark in his rented room. “Hey, Sid. Can I come over to yours and eat in the dark? Sure kid. Why not. I don’t value my sleep in the slightest.” Sleipnir teased, talking to himself more than anyone else.

@coming-xf-age

#mature content as ever #replies #ask #comingxfage #Anonymous

In response to a letter

@coming-xf-age (from here)

It was cold that afternoon, and the city was quiet. In the spring months the town hall was a busy place, alive with noise and chatter, but December had brought with her fresh snow that kept most folks home, or sent them to the saloons scattered around town to keep warm.

Atticus, being something of a desert-dwelling creature, was freezing despite his layers of clothing. But he was still there outside the town hall at twelve in the afternoon on a Monday morning when everyone else had had the good sense to stay indoors. The town hall’s clock said he’d only been there ten minutes, but he’d still started to wonder if maybe Turner had forgotten about him--or that this was a set-up of some sort--when a movement by the corner of the building caught his eye and sent his heart racing.

“Turner!”

He was moving before he could think about it, closing the space between them in long strides, excited beyond measure--he’d known from the moment he got the letter that Charlie was alive, but to see it for himself, to know it--

He stopped just shy of too close, remembering where they were, and held out his hand to shake instead - smiling, of course, like an idiot.

“You’re a whole thirty seconds late, I was startin’ to think you weren’t coming. You, uh, you look well. I mean, aside from whatever the hell it is you’re wearin’. You look--it’s good to see you.”

#ic: atticus #i need to think of a VERSE NAME for our idiots #comingxfage #comingxfage: charlie #[ this is so fucking long and atticus is SO GAY ]

Several seats away from Atticus down the bar, and old man freezes, his bourbon halfway towards his lips. His hat is lowered, and an eyepatch obscures part of his face, but the body language has already revealed recognition of the outlaw. Moments later, his drink is finished, and he leaves the saloon rather hastily.

@coming-xf-age

"Left in an awful hurry back there,” says a voice some distance behind him. It’s strikingly familiar: a friendly drawl with a razorblade edge, tinged with the South and dry as the plains. A little deeper, maybe- or maybe this is how he talks to folks he doesn’t like, and Rio’s just never been on the receiving end of it before. “A reaction like that, why, I’m pushed to think there’s somethin’ you didn’t like about my face. That hurts.”

He is, of course, waiting for the man to turn around. To turn and see Atticus’ revolver pointing at his chest: to turn so that Atticus can see him properly, get a good look at the face hidden under the patch and the low-brimmed hat. Something about the way he moves tells Atticus he knows him, or knew him, but movement alone ain’t distinctive enough to tell him just who it is yet.

“Turn around,” he says pleasantly, “And we’ll talk.”